Basic Game Theory
by seven days later
Summary: When Don Eppes is arrested for murder, Nikki Betancourt and her partner Agent Lieve are to prove him guilty. Despite accumulating evidence, Nikki can't bring herself to believe that her suspect is guilty. A tale of deception, broken trust and friendship.
1. Setting the Scene

**Chapter One: Setting the Scene.**

Let me set the scene for you. Five team members toast their most recent success with bottles of cool water on the boiling hot LA June, not yet off duty enough to celebrate with alcohol and a hockey game. The boss looked on as his partner splashed their junior agent with her water, scolding him for the snide comment that he had just thrown her way. He laughed, knowing that everything was normal, along with his most senior agent, and his ex-girlfriend, who both preferred to drink their water rather than throw it at their colleagues.

"Yo Colb, looking a bit wet there." Don chided good-temperedly from the sidelines, and his junior agent stuck out his tongue in a less than mature gesture. Megan laughed, and ruffled Colby's now wet hair with a fond expression. She had just turned around when he got her back, trickling his own mineral water down the back of her neck. Shrieking with surprise and annoyance, she twisted away and nearly fell over, causing her colleagues to laugh harder. Despite her apparent formal and professional appearance, she and the ex-military man were quite the double act."Hey Don, we're going out for a beer later. Barno's. Up for tagging along?"

"Sounds good. I just need to finish up the paperwork. You guys thought that you had it bad, but seriously. Try being the boss. I have to sign off on almost everything that you guys do, write and say." Liz patted him on the back, sympathetically.

"Sucker." Megan joked, and Don glared at her.

"Watch it Reeves." She grinned, and sat down next to Colby, who was looking altogether quite happy, his tongue lolling out like a Labrador's in the LA heat. "After that, sure. I'll meet you there." David nodded, catching his point. Don't wait up lest the paperwork get the better of him.

"What's Lieve doing here?" Liz suddenly asked, with her eyes fixed on the elevator and a curious expression on her face. "He's Internal Affairs." The team's attention turned from their dinner plans to the three agents approaching them; two male agents and one female, all dressed in black. Agent Auguste Lieve was in the lead, and as far as Don could tell, he was heading straight for them.

Don pushed himself off from where he was leaning against his desk, to meet Lieve. The other agent had two inches on Don, yet Agent Eppes still towered over him. The woman, a pretty African-American female with intensely curly hair and a harsh LA clip, spoke instead of Lieve, and their remaining colleague appeared to size up the team.

"Agent Eppes?" Don nodded, very suspicious. He had worked with Lieve before on certain cases pertaining to policing the police, and they were on a firmly first name basis. Which meant that he and his agents were there for business. Which in turn, meant something much more sinister.

"Who's asking?" The woman brought out a badge, as did the agent behind her. Lieve didn't bother.

"Agents Betancourt, Lieve and Miller, Internal Affairs department. Agent Eppes, could we speak in private?" She was polite, but there was a certain nastiness in her tone which told him what she thought of him. He wondered briefly where she was getting her intel from. And extensively what intel she actually had.

"What's this about?" Don asked. Something was wrong here, he could feel it. He wasn't going with these people unless he knew what it was. "Why's Internal Affairs wanting to talk to me? Auguste?" His speech was directed at Lieve, who had the audacity to keep eye contact, but say nothing. Agent Betancourt, the woman, looked surprised that Don had referred to Lieve as 'Auguste', but she said nothing.

"Agent Eppes, we will explain everything if you will just come with us." Curiosity mounting, Don slowly walked towards Betancourt, letting himself get very close before veering off to the side, which was a known intimidation technique. Despite his predicament, he was impressed by how little she shied away, and the intensity with which she stared straight back at him. This was the moment that he learned Nikki Betancourt was not one to back down against anyone.

Lieve led Don and Nikki to the elevator, leaving Agent Miller next to Don's team. He immediately moved towards Don's desk, and when his progress was blocked, he produced what looked suspiciously like a search warrant. When Megan demanded to see it, she was disappointed and confused to see that it was. What was going on? Why was Internal Affairs looking through Don Eppes' desk?

Don noted how the agents stood on either side of him, securely, and how they had waited for an empty elevator. They were being subtle, to the point of ignorable to most agents, but there was no doubt about the predicament that Don found himself in. He was under arrest, and God knows where Internal Affairs were taking him.

* * *

Megan and the team watched as Miller carefully picked through Don's desk, taking care not to touch anything without latex gloves and placing everything back where he had put them. Miller had not said one word since he had got there, even when he showed them the warrant; he managed to convey what he needed to say through the raise of his eyebrows.

"Aren't you going to tell us what's going on?" Colby and David were interrogating him, pacing around the workstation in concentric circles in opposite directions, attempting for their formation to throw Miller off guard. However, the stoic agent didn't even blink, and nor did he reply, he merely continued his work in a comfortable silence. Even Megan the profiler couldn't see anything on this man. "Is he under arrest? For what?" Miller artfully ignored them both, and leant over the keyboard, typing an override password into the computer. Liz and Megan traded looks. Don was in trouble if they were looking into his authorisation codes, and clock-ins. They just wondered what on earth was going on, and hoping that their boss, and their friend, wasn't as guilty as Agents Miller, Lieve and Betancourt thought that he was.

Soon after Liz and Megan had retired to their own respective workstations, the boys joined them, looking put out that their technique of interrogation had failed. It was one of their most successful, and Miller was the first one who hadn't even blinked at their blatant intimidation attempt.

"He's trained. I'd say military, by the way he holds himself." Colby informed them, and David nodded in agreement. Colby knows these things. "There's no way that we're getting anything out of him." Megan looked at the search warrant, which Miller was lenient enough to let her read over while he searched through Don's personal belongings.

"It says here that Don's been detained on the charge of accused murder. Which means, to get a warrant, they must have some seriously solid evidence. Especially to arrest an agent, without even talking to him first about it." Megan interpreted the words on the paper, her face twisted into a wry grimace. "This is messed up. There's no way that Don's killed anyone."

"And even if he did," Colby cut in, reading the warrant over Megan's shoulder. "He wouldn't have stabbed them. Everyone knows that is the most unreliable way to kill someone." The team stared at him, and he looked almost apologetic for his words, but did not regret them. It was true. "I don't believe that Don could do this to anyone, but I think we had better get all the facts before we testify in his defence." Megan shook her head.

"He couldn't do this. How could you say that, Colby?" Colby shook his head, his expression dire.

"Don't be so quick to dismiss his guilt. I've seen mistakes made which are far worse, happen to good men. To learn from your mistakes, you have to make them first." Megan shook her head again, refusing to acknowledge what Colby was saying, and the light-hearted atmosphere between them was replaced with crackling tension. She pushed out of their huddle and strode over to the war room, but none of the others followed. Liz and David glanced between the two other agents. They didn't know who was right, or who they believed. All they knew was that they needed to find the truth. Opinions be damned.

* * *

Agents Eppes, Betancourt and Lieve exited the elevator on the third floor. They didn't break their formation (Don in the middle with Betancourt and Lieve on either side like bodyguards) until they reached the small, cold interrogation room, on the other side of the Internal Affairs bullpen. Don was uncomfortable, and embarrassed as all of the agents on the floor watched them go past. They no doubt thought he had done something wrong. What had he done wrong?

"Have a seat, Agent Eppes." Lieve pulled out the chair for him, but Don did not move. Betancourt closed the door behind them, and came up as close as possible behind Don without actually touching him.

"That wasn't a question, Eppes." Don didn't miss the warning look that Lieve shot his partner, but chose to play along for now. But if they didn't stop bullshitting and finally speak what was on their minds, things would rapidly descend into chaos. He would make sure of it. He sat down, and leant back in his chair, keeping Betancourt in his sights. Her deadpan enthusiasm and cool approach intrigued him, and as did the way that her partner felt he had to control her actions, as though if he didn't, something bad would happen. He found himself wondering if Betancourt's approach worked with everyone. And if she had a boyfriend.

"Have a drink of water." Lieve poured him a glass, from a bottle he had snagged from his workstation on the way past. "As I'm sure you've noticed, Agent Eppes, you are being detained."

"For what?" Don prompted, truly confused. He hadn't done anything out rightly illegal in... Ever. Certainly nothing that warranted Internal Affairs to investigate. "I haven't done anything wrong." Lieve sat down across from Don, and opened the file in front of him. Don's eyes kept darting to the female agent lounging against the wall, just in his peripheral vision. Despite Lieve's reputation, gruff appearance and status at the FBI, Don was warier of Betancourt. Maybe because he wasn't on first name terms with her when they arrested him.

Lieve pushed a large printout photo across the solid metal table towards the other agent, and watched him carefully, trying to gauge his reaction. The picture depicted a woman, her face obscured by blood, bruises, blond hair and shadows, her body twisted in such a way that no photographer could make her look human again. The image was grotesque, sickening even. Don showed no discernable reaction, even though his stomach twisted upon seeing it.

"Is this one of my cases?" He asked, bluntly. "Or is this someone that you think I've killed?" The last part was meant as a half joke, even though the situation was far from humorous. Lieve watched him, somewhat like a man who was about to drop a bomb on a hospital.

"Do you recognise this woman?" Betancourt asked, taking him slightly off guard. Don shook his head.

"No, but I can't be certain. It's not exactly a head-on shot." If Lieve was going to be an ass, then so was he. "Seriously Auguste, just tell me what you think I've done and we can clear this all up." His words seemed to aggravate Betancourt, who strode forwards, rounding the table and leaning on it, next to Lieve.

"This isn't about clearing anything up, Eppes. If there's a problem, we screw the guy responsible, not make it go away quietly." The words 'oh shit' came to mind. They had him on tape, with a misunderstanding. Those killed in a courtroom.

"That's not what I meant, Agent Betancourt. I meant that I haven't done anything wrong. So tell me what's going on, and we can find out who has." Her eyes were big and beautiful as she regarded him mistrustfully.

"The victim's name is Bethany Jenkins." That was all she needed to say to knock him on his ass. Lieve immediately glared at her; he was clearly working up to that. Don's eyes widened, and he broke contact, leaning back in his chair. Even though he hadn't planned on it, he took a long drink from the water in front of him. He needed it to clear his head.

"Are you sure?" Betancourt felt like replying like she did to all criminals; short and sassy, to knock them back another few steps. But she didn't. There was something about this agent which she didn't feel right about. Sure, maybe he was lying and he knew that Jenkins was dead because he was the one who raped, killed and brutalised her body, but maybe, just maybe, the shock was real. Maybe he was innocent after all. So instead, she just nodded solemnly.

"She was found about a week ago in a hotel downtown. Not too far from your apartment, as it happens." She said this softly, without the aforementioned harshness in her tone. Eppes took another swig of the water, and immediately wished that it was something stronger. He began to feel dizzy, and his heartbeat accelerated at an alarming rate. He experienced a wave of nausea and held back the bile rising in his throat. Sickness could wait.

"And you think that I... that I could do this to her?" He asked, and he sounded so broken that Nikki found she could not formulate a reply. Lieve noted her hesitation, and internally frowned at it, before replying instead of her.

"It's not a question whether we think you could. We know you could. You're a Special Agent, one whose reputation precedes you. You have several commendations, and you most certainly were capable of overpowering a five foot four woman with no defence training. It's a question on whether you would." Lieve's voice was deep and level, while Eppes', when he spoke, was shaking, though determined.

"Well I wouldn't. I... I couldn't." Betancourt felt sick herself, watching the agent cradle his head in his hands, clearly trying to overcome the sickness washing through him. She saw him swallow, and regain half of a shred of his former composure. "You wouldn't have brought me here unless you had a good reason though." He bit his lip, afraid of his own words. "Unless you have enough to convict me." Lieve sighed, and rubbed his brow.

"We found your DNA and fingerprints all over the crime scene. Statements from neighbouring hotel rooms state that they heard Bethany having a fight with a man the night before she was found." Lieve cocked his head to the side, and watched Don carefully. "Can you tell me what you were doing last Tuesday night, Agent Eppes?" Don stared at him for a moment, then his eyes unfocussed. His head was blurry; he couldn't think straight. Swallowing again, he forced himself to rerun the night in question...

"I came home from work at ten. Late lead. I watched some TV, and then I fell asleep on my couch."

"What time was this and can anyone verify it?"

"My partner can verify what time I went home, she was running the lead with me."

"Is there anyone except Megan Reeves who can verify your story?" Lieve asked, and was ready for the storm that it brought. Suddenly, inexplicably, Don felt rage everywhere, blinding his judgement and his senses. Red hot static screen leapt in front of his eyes as he stood too fast, throwing his chair back in frustration. Betancourt jumped, but Lieve appeared to be waiting for his outbreak.

"Yeah, about ten other agents who were on scene!"

"Agents who work with you a lot?" He asked, calmly as ever, which only infuriated Don further.

"What?" Don's brow was furrowed in anger and confusion. Was he seriously implying what he thought he was implying?

"Agents who you know well?"

"Fuck." Don shook his head, unwilling to believe that Lieve was saying what he was. "Fuck you Lieve. My agents are good people. Yeah, they're loyal to me, but they wouldn't lie to you. I mean Jesus, Auguste! They're FBI agents!" Lieve wrote something neatly in his notes, and the stillness which he did so with aggravated Don even more.

"Agent Eppes, is there anyone who could account for you once you were home? A girlfriend perhaps; or a neighbour?" Don shook his head, his legs shaking. Betancourt seemed to notice, and he was grateful as she retrieved his chair from the other side of the room where it had slid, due to his rage-induced strength. Surprised that she was so obediently doing so, but grateful. He sat down again, and cradled his head in his hands.

"No. There was no one there."

"So you thought that you would just go and catch up with your ex-wife. Just while she was in town."

"I didn't know that she was in town. I thought she was still in Nevada."

"We found a message on your answering machine. Which you could have easily heard and followed up on."

"I didn't hear any... you've been to my apartment?" Don was barely able to control the rage again. "You-"

"We had a warrant and considerable means." He said, firmly, his expression stoic. "And we found something, didn't we? You often take such gambles with suspects." Don rubbed his head frantically, trying to clear it, but something just kept jumbling his thoughts up again. If anything, his head was becoming fuzzier. One thought was undistinguishable from another. Had he known that Bethany was in town? Had he heard that message on the answering machine? Had anything else happened last night before he passed out on his couch, completely catatonic from alcohol consumption on Tuesday night?

"I don't think that you know what you're saying." Don stared at the crime scene photos again, unable to breathe when he thought of the woman that he now knew them to be. No matter what Lieve believed, he couldn't have done this.

"We know exactly what we're saying." Even in his state of shock, Don could tell that Agent Betancourt wasn't even sure that she agreed with her partner. But, she was obediently silent, and watched him curiously. All of her earlier defiance and distaste vanished the moment that niggling feeling appeared, in the back of her mind, telling her that maybe, just maybe, this agent wasn't guilty after all. "We know what we are saying, and we're sure that it's right." Lieve hissed, and he leaned across the table, staring straight into Don's face. For the first time since he had entered the room, Don smiled.

"Do you seriously think that shit will work?" Lieve did not look pleased at Don's lack of reaction towards his intimidation technique. "I wrote that in the handbook, Lieve." It was a battle of the wills, with both men staring straight and true, neither one readable. "Don't pull this crap. I know that this looks bad, but you have to think about it. If I was to murder my ex-wife, I would do it in a way which I would never be caught. I've spent ten years watching murderers make mistakes that get them life in jail. Do you seriously think that I'd be stupid enough to make those same mistakes?" Lieve watched him calmly, though Nikki knew that her partner was shitting it. Their control in the interrogation was slipping, fast.

"Don, I know that you're a capable agent, and I know that you're well versed in these areas. So you know as well as I that murder is never the same when you do it. When the gun is in your hand, and your emotions are running wild and you just pull the trigger because it's the only thing you can think about to do. Then you realise what you have done. You run, you make all the mistakes that you've seen over the years, and maybe even more because the difference is that it's you. You're the murderer this time, and you're the one who makes the mistakes." Neither agent blinked or looked away for what to Nikki felt like an eternity.

"A knife." This visibly threw Lieve off guard, and Nikki cursed internally, knowing that they no longer had control in the room. They had known that Eppes was good, but this surprised even her. Lieve blinked, and Don nodded towards the open file in front of him, which he had glanced over while Lieve was talking to him, leaning back in his chair and adopting a defensive pose with his arms crossed tightly across his chest. "The file says that the murder weapon was a knife, not a gun." He did not look pleased that he had gained the upper hand. He merely glared stonily at Lieve until he sat back, closing the file. Nikki rounded the table, and stood so Don could just see her out of the corner of his eye.

"Don, that distinction isn't going to save you in court." Lieve spat, standing up curtly and holding his head high as he walked past Nikki. As soon as he knew that Lieve was no longer looking at him, Don turned his head and gazed at Agent Betancourt. Unlike when he looked at Lieve, he didn't glare. He just looked, not quite curious but not quite knowing what to think of her. The expression on his face didn't help with her indecision.

Following her partner away from the room, she leaned on her desk, watching the still figure in the room.

"I don't know, Auguste. I have a bad feeling about this one. He just seems so..." She held herself back from saying trustworthy because she didn't know how Lieve would respond. "What I'm saying is that we need to get our facts completely straight before we go arresting the wrong guy."

"He's the right guy, I know it." Lieve responded blankly, not even taking her comment into consideration. Nikki changed her tactic, knowing the only way that he was going to listen to her.

"Yeah, but he's also a really good agent. He's the head of a department, he has a great service file, and he's done ten years with the Bureau. If we push him too hard with too little evidence, AD Wright's going to make sure that we don't set foot in this building again." Now she was speaking his language. Lieve didn't look away from Don's form, seen contorted through the fuzzy glass of the interrogation window.

"Don't worry Nikki. We have enough to convict him." Unsure if this was what she wanted to hear or not, Nikki forced a smile and grabbed the papers on her desk.

"I'll go check out his alibi, and then we can go talk to his family." Lieve nodded.

"Call me when you're nearly done and I'll meet you at the car."


	2. The Immensely Bad Idea

**Chapter Two - The Immensely Bad Idea**

Agent Megan Reeves was pouring herself a cup of coffee when Nikki entered the room, and she pointedly ignored her until she spoke.

"Agent Reeves?" Megan stirred the boiling liquid maybe a little too forcefully, and controlled her breathing. Nikki could see that the whole affair was making her nervous, even though her anxiety manifested as anger.

"Can I help you?" Megan's teeth were gritted when she spoke, as though moderating her speech. Making sure that she didn't piss off the wrong people.

"Yes, Agent Reeves. Your partner said that you can confirm you saw him at approximately ten on Tuesday night. Can you?" Trying to keep her voice as polite as possible, Nikki leaned against the doorframe, knowing that Megan would find her far too up front if she stood directly in front of her. She was already pissed off with Nikki, there was no reason to make matters worse.

"If Don says that something's true, then it is." She answered curtly, and Nikki sighed.

"You've worked these kinds of cases before, so you know the protocol. I really don't want to do this, I don't at all like the thought that another agent is dirty, but it has to be done." Despite her efforts, this only seemed to enrage Megan further.

"Do you even have hard evidence?" She almost shrieked, attracting a lot of attention from the surrounding office. "Or are you just taking him out of the running because he doesn't always follow protocol? I mean, he's one of the best agents I have ever worked with, and what's more, he is my friend! I know him and I would have been able to see this coming." Chest heaving, Megan was absolutely irate now. Something snapping in her patience, Nikki strode forwards, no longer caring about getting in Megan's face.

"With all due respect, _Agent Reeves_, that's what all of them say." She hissed, and Megan flinched, stepping backwards in surprise at Nikki's sudden change in behaviour. "I came down here to get a statement from you which doesn't at all prove your partner's innocence, but it might when we come across more evidence. Now your refusal to give me a statement not only reflects on your trustworthiness, but it also fucks up the timeline. So either give me your statement and I'll be gone, or don't give me anything, and continue to feel sorry for yourself that you didn't see this coming." Shock mixing with anger flooded onto Megan's face, and Nikki immediately regretted her words. Damn. She really had to work on those anger issues.

"I don't... I know that Don's innocent." Megan sounded resigned, as Nikki's words had hit her harder than she had realised. Immediately the anger dissapated, and Nikki followed the profiler to the seats next to the table.

"I know that it's hard to comprehend, but right now we just need all the facts. We need to gather evidence, and you know that means making a timeline. You're part of that timeline, Agent Reeves. And I know that you feel like crap because you never saw this happening, and I know that you feel helpless because there's nothing you can do from outside the investigation, but please, you need to help me find out what happened that night." The surprise on Megan's face switched to vague amusement.

"You'd make a really good profiler, you know that?" She asked, smirking slightly. Nikki grinned too. "I know that you're just doing your job. But like you said, I just feel so helpless." Taking a sip of her coffee, Megan sighed. "Let my statement reflect that I saw Agent Eppes at about ten to ten, leaving a crime scene on Lexington Boulevard. It would have taken him about fifteen minutes to get to his apartment from there, so yeah, he would have arrived home at around ten, five past ten maybe." Nikki noted this down, and smiled encouragingly at Megan.

"Thank you, Agent. I promise that I'll investigate every avenue available, to find out the truth." Megan nodded, still staring at her coffee, though looking a lot less angry than she had when Nikki had entered the room.

"Just one thing..." Megan called, as the Internal Affairs agent reached the doorway. Nikki turned back, curiously.

"Yes?"

"What exactly did Don do? I mean, the warrant says that it's... murder, but who?" Nikki sighed, and bit her lip. There would be no harm in telling her, even though it was a closed investigation. She had the distinct feeling that it would get out anyway - it always did.

"His ex-wife was found in a hotel room a few blocks from his apartment. That's all I can say for now, I'm sorry." Nikki left before Megan could ask her any more questions, because she knew that they were more questions. There were always more questions. But her answer to this one seemed to have really knocked Special Agent Megan Reeves onto her ass. And from the look of her, that was no easy feat.

* * *

Colby and Liz were doing paperwork at Colby's desk when Megan sat down next to them. They had all seen her talking to Agent Betancourt, and had all heard her indignant outburst, even from this distance.

"How'd it go?" David asked, sitting down at his own desk, a few metres away. "Did she tell you anything about what's going on, or did she just ask you your analysis of his character." He snorted. "Or something equally stupid." Her lack of response for his jibe at the profiling profession alerted him to the fact that something was wrong. "Megan? What did she say?" Colby and Liz watched her too, expectantly, pens poised above paper.

"Did any of you know that Don used to be married?" The clear shock on their faces told her that they didn't. Even Liz looked surprised.

"No, I didn't." She replied, mouth slightly ajar. "That's who they think he killed?" Megan nodded, and David sat down, thinking hard.

"I never heard him say anything about it." He said, truthfully. "Wouldn't he have told us though?" Megan shrugged, staring into space.

"Clearly we don't know him as well as we thought we did." She said, sourly, and this time it was Colby who objected.

"Listen, just because he didn't tell us about a failed marriage doesn't mean that he's guilty of murder. Think about it - he was probably embarrassed that it failed, or didn't want to tell Charlie about it, and figured that if he told anyone about it, then things would eventually circle back to his family." None of the others looked convinced. "Maybe he got married in Vegas." David cuffed his partner over the head.

"This is serious, Colby."

"I was being serious!" The junior agent protested. "Until we know everything about what happened, who are we to speculate? If Don's kept it a secret, it's either something that really doesn't matter to him, or something that is kept secret for a reason." The role reversal amused Megan - merely an hour ago, they were on separate ends of the same argument.

"Well whatever it is, I suppose that we'll find out eventually." Liz sighed, almost glumly. She had been under the impression that Don had no secrets from her. And considering their past relationship, it was a rather important one. "Even if it is in court." Her words hung heavy in the air, and all of the agents lapsed into silent thought.

* * *

"Mr. Eppes, I would like to ask you some questions." They were lucky to catch both Alan and Charlie at home - the eccentric math professor had only nipped back to grab some of his notes on his Emergence theory.

"Sure, is this about Don?" Alan asked, immediately connecting their badges with his eldest son. His face dropped. "Is he okay? He hasn't been hurt, has he?" Lieve shook his head, though his lack of expression did not comfort the Eppes any further. Alan turned to Nikki for answers, and it hurt her to tell a father that they had his son in custody. Especially a father who had such faith in his son.

"This is about Don, but he is not injured." Nikki took over, wary that Lieve would say the wrong thing, or say it the wrong way. Lieve watched her, though he kept his suspicion silent. He knew that there was something about this case which hit home with her, and he was starting to wonder what it was. "Your son has been detained, on suspicion of a murder which occured early Wednesday morning." The change of their facial expression was draining. Nikki found it physically painful to watch the ways their brows contorted in confusion.

"There's been a mistake." Alan was the first one to speak. "Don would never do that. He catches criminals, he isn't one." Charlie remained silent, staring at Nikki as if hoping that she was going to jump forwards and suddenly proclaim that it was all just a practical joke. He seemed so disappointed when she didn't.

"There's been no mistake, Mr. Eppes." Lieve took control, still suspicious of the clear change in Nikki's usually more forward approach. "He was detained earlier this morning, and he refused counsel." For some reason that she could not fathom, Nikki felt a pang of anger when her partner left out the part in his sentence about Don protesting his innocence. "I have to ask if you also knew that Bethany Jenkins was in town." Immediately, the agents knew that they had made a mistake. Or at least that someone had.

"Bethany Jenkins, who's that?" Charlie asked, bluntly, staring at Nikki for the answers. There was something about the male agent which made him antsy. Lieve kept his cool, though Nikki knew that once again he was shitting it.

"You may know her as Bethany Eppes?" It was a straight and true indicator for Alan that something was off when they used a simple statement as a question. They had no clue what they were talking about, though Alan knew not enough to correct them.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Alan voiced. "But what I think you're implying is impossible." Charlie, still to catch on, stared at his father with his mouth shaped in a small o. "I would know my own daughter in law." Charlie's frown grew deeper.

"I have a sister-in-law?"

"I'm sorry if this comes as a shock, but yes, you do. She was raped, beaten and murdered early on Wednesday morning." Nikki visibly flinched at Lieve's bluntness. Their whole reason for the questioning went out the window. With no family of her own, Bethany Jenkin's inlaws were the agents' best chance of getting some answers out of the massive mess they found themselves in. Lieve withdrew a photo they had aquired of the victim, when she was still alive. "Please confirm that you do not recognise this woman." Alan and Charlie both peered carefully at the smiling picture, though both shook their heads.

"Never seen her before in my life." Alan verified vocally, while Charlie just continued to shake his head. Nikki was getting the intense feeling that they shouldn't push him any further - he seemed close enough already to a break of some kind. She had heard that Charlie Eppes was a genius. She just hoped that whatever emotional baggage came with the gift wasn't set on fire by his brother's deceit, and the possibility of his betrayal.

"Thank you Mr. Eppes, Professor Eppes. You have been very helpful." Lieve lied fluidly, standing up from the couch he was sitting on. Nikki was almost unable to tear her eyes away from the lost look in Charlie's brown eyes, but she did. Not before her partner noticed, but she did.

They were on the way to the door, Lieve in front, when something caught Nikki by the arm. It was Alan.

"I know that there's been a mistake, Agent Betancourt." He held her arm tightly, so much that it was painful, but Nikki made no attempt to pull free. There was something about the desperation with which Alan held her with that caught her in one place. "My son would never ever do something like that. He is a good man. A good agent. If you knew him, you would understand. He would never - he could never..." Alan began to ramble, and Nikki caught his hand, gently removing it from her arm.

"Mr. Eppes, I want you to know that I will do everything that I can to find the truth about what happened to your daughter-in-law." Alan nodded, eyes wide and haunted. His thoughts were running wild - he was perhaps seeing betrayal where there was none. "But right now you have to let go and help me do that." She pulled a business card out of her jacket pocket. "If there's anything that you need, or anything that you remember which might be relevant, just call this number." Alan nodded, his breathing gradually regulating.

"Thank you." He murmured, and Nikki felt a presense behind her, as Lieve doubled back into the house.

"Mr. Eppes, I would just like you to think about the situation before making judgements. About the reason why your son would keep his wife a secret from you, and about the reasons that they are divorced." His voice was cold, and Nikki's heart dropped a little as he said those words. She didn't know why - she automatically trusted Alan. Maybe it was the irrational trust she felt towards his son, despite the severe situation.

Once they were in the car, Lieve rounded on Nikki angrily.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" He hissed, lip curled. "There's a good chance that their hero Don raped and killed a woman, and you are giving them emotional support? This isn't the time to make friends, Nikki, this is work. And if you think that you can't handle it, then take yourself off the case. I want you to be the way you were before, and that means no more of this feeling the pain BS. Pull yourself together." Lieve started up the engine and pulled out of the driveway, perhaps a little faster than he shoud have.

Nikki didn't say a word until she left him in the lobby.

* * *

Don was still in holding when she reached him, his head cradled in his hands but otherwise still. The agent didn't even look up when Nikki entered, instead continuing to stare at the crime scene photographs in front of him. Nikki grimaced, and sat down across from him, trying to look into his downturned face.

"You don't have to look at them." She said, softly, and the tone of her voice surprised him. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he broke contact with the pictures, and looked up at her instead.

"I need to." He said, meekly, and the first feelings of dread crept into her belly.

"What do you mean, Agent?" She wasn't interrogating - if anything, she was wishing that there was some unifying theory which explained it all. God's voice would be enough for her, because she just didn't feel like this man was guilty of any crime.

"I mean that I lied." Oh shit. Here we go.

"Lied about what? Are you admitting that yo-"

"No." He cut her off sharply, then rubbed the top of his head, pissed off. "Yes. I don't-" Slamming his hands down on the table, he pushed his chair back and began to pace, growing slowly more agitated by his own recollections. Or lack thereof. "I don't remember Tuesday night. I'd had a bad case. I guess I just wanted to knock myself out and forget that it ever happened." At this point it was more circumstantial than anything else.

"You got drunk." Don sent her a pissed off glare.

"Yeah, that's what I said, wasn't it?" There was still something about him which bothered her. Even first time recollectors, the guys who were just starting to remember the crimes they commited while under the influence of drugs or alcohol, didn't act like this. Nikki had been a cop, before she trained to be FBI. She had a law degree. She knew more than enough about psycho human behaviour to know that this wasn't it. But Nikki Betancourt's gut wasn't something that would stand up in court. Especially above the evidence they presently had.

"I'm just getting things straight. You don't remember that night." Don shook his head, sitting back down.

"No, I don't. I've been spending a lot of my time like that lately." He admitted, seemingly giving up hope. His moodswings weren't helping his case either, Nikki realised, as she watched him go from agiatated to resigned.

"Let's start from the beginnning, Agent Eppes. The main problem in your defense here is that no one knows that you were ever married. Now that doesn't mean anything right now, but without a damn good reason, prosecution will jump on it and suck it dry, and it won't matter if you killed her or not." Don watched Nikki with a dawning realisation.

"You believe that I'm innocent." He sounded incredulous. This was dangerous, Nikki knew that. It was extremely dangerous to get sucked into this game, especially with someone who helped make it. Don Eppes was no profiler, but that didn't mean that he didn't know human behaviour, because he did and he knew it well. Every good interrogator did, and she couldn't afford to have him interrogate her. That would be far too dangerous.

"I believe that a person needs all the facts before they make a judgement, so you should be grateful that I'm doing the legwork. Lieve feels like you should go straight to a jail cell, without a trial. So just roll with it Eppes, because you ain't gonna get too many chances like this one. No one is twisting your words here, so you can speak the truth. Just you, me and God listening." Don appeared to accept her words, and nodded deeply, tapping his thumbnail deftly on the edge of the table.

"I got married to Bethany when I was young, stupid and when I thought that marriage only needed one person. I was in fugitive recovery, so we both knew that I wasn't going to be around a lot. Hell, we couldn't even make a date for the wedding so we did it at a tiny chapel with my partner as witness."

"His name?"

"Billy Cooper. Not that it matters. You don't need proof that we were married, that's already in the system." He replied, smoothly, but Nikki jotted down the name anyway.

"Continue."

"We were married for a couple of months when we both realised that we needed something more. I was away for weeks, sometimes months at a time, and she settled down. She wanted a real relationship, one that I couldn't give her. I chose my job over her, and we divorced. Billy agreed to keep his mouth shut about it if I wanted him to, because I just... I didn't want to explain the whole thing to my family. My dad, he thinks of marriage so sacredly that if I told him that I married someone within six weeks of meeting them and two dates, I think he might just shoot me. I was... I was ashamed of the whole thing, I just wanted it all to go away. When I took this job, I knew that I was starting again, I was going to be there for my family. I just didn't want it hanging over me." It was painful that he sounded so lost. Still not knowing what to believe, everyone else's opinion or her own, Nikki listened some more. "That's why I kept it a secret, but we both moved on. I heard from her occasionally. We kept in touch, if only because she and Billy kept in touch. But I didn't know she was in town." The truth in those deep brown eyes was strong. Nikki forced herself to stay impartial, but all she wanted to do was to tell him that it was okay. That everything was going to be okay, and she was going to take care of him. But, Nikki never promised anything that she wasn't sure that she could do.

Don was upright, and pacing again. Outside the room, security was watching carefully, hands on their weapons as Don paced over to Nikki's side of the table, and stood behind her. It was almost as if he was the interrogator now, and she couldn't have that. She stood, expecting him to move back as she did so, but he stayed in one place, so she had to step back to avoid their chests touching. They were exactly the same height, but he towered over her, making her feel small.

"Listen, Agent Eppes. I will do what I can with the information which you have given me, but there is still no way to explain why your DNA is all over the victim's hotel room. Your fingerprints are on her belt. There's not a lot of ways which a jury can see that and not think you guilty." The feeling in Don's eyes was hardening fast, and Nikki felt the warmth being sucked forth from the room. His stare was so intense that she quailed under it, body tense and arms tucked in by her sides. Security continued to watch, unaware of what was being said, but still on red alert.

"I thought you believed me."

"Agent Eppes, this is not about what I believe!" Nikki exclaimed, letting her frustration break through a tiny bit. "This is about what happened!" Don threw a look towards the black mirror which was the viewing room, then all of a sudden, just disappeared from her plane of vision. Nikki gasped as he pulled her in front of her, holding her neck tightly with one arm while pinning her arms down with another. She struggled, but to no avail. He was far too strong. "Agent Eppes, let go!"

Security poured in, guns out and shouting. The noise was amazing, and not in a good way. Lieve was visible, rising from his desk with a twisted expression, also yelling at the agents through the glass. But above all of this noise, she could hear Don's breathing, then his voice:

"You have to believe that I didn't do this. You have to believe me. I've been..." she heard him take a deep breath, and his grip tightened. "Someone's framing me, I can tell. Suggest I take a toxicology screen. See who objects. Look at the fingerprints found. Ask Charlie to look at the DNA at the crime scene. I didn't do this, Nikki. I wouldn't do this." The breath on her ear was held for a moment, then she felt his lips brush against her cheek. The grip loosened, as suddenly as it had been obtained, and she was pushed away, out of the way of the oncoming security guards, and the interrogation table. Unhurt, she looked on, helplessly, as security knocked him down, perhaps a little too forcefully. They hit him once more than necessary and cuffed him to the chair. Don's eyes didn't leave Nikki's, the whole time.

Stumbling, her legs not entirely strong enough yet to hold her weight, Nikki left the interrogation room, where the blinds were drawn to ward of nosy agents nearby, who were peering into the windows. Lieve tried to catch her arm, but she batted him away.

"I'm fine, but you need to get him tested." She didn't know why she did it. Maybe it was that fucking voice, saying over and over again that she should trust Don. Despite what she had just been through, she still trusted him. She was just giving him the chance to be right. Or maybe she just wouldn't admit to herself that she was wrong in the first place. Lieve's brow creased.

"Tested?"

"Toxicology report, now. I swear he's high." Lieve shook his head, trying to dissuade her, and she felt the first inklings of unease. "Why not?"

"Nikki, he's just unstable. He's not high, he just has emotional instability. It explains the murder, it explains a lot of things on his file. There are no drugs, Nikki. Just a seriously fucked up guy who's in denial." He touched her arm. "Don't be pulled in by his ruse." There was more than unease now, there was fear. The hand on her arm which before felt protective, now felt controlling. Could she trust Lieve? Could she trust her own partner? Squashing her emotions, and forcing a smile, she walked over to her desk.

"You're right, Auguste. I'm not thinking straight." Smoothing down her hair, she started to look for some files on her desk, while her partner watched on. She waited until he'd stopped watching before stretching and starting to walk away, holding some files. "I need some air, so I'm going to get these to Agent Dennis then go keep working though. I wanna put Eppes behind bars, and I'll be back tomorrow to help you do it." She just hoped that was enough to keep him at bay.

True to her word, she dropped the files off at level three, but instead of continuing down in the elevator, she took it back up to the fifth floor. Violent Crimes Department. The four agents she was looking for were there, but they didn't look happy to see her. If she was them, she wouldn't be either.

"I know that I'm not your favourite person right now, but I need your help." Nikki began, her stomach steeling as Megan, Colby, David and Liz stared up at her distrustfully.

This was a immensely bad idea.


	3. Basic Game Theory

**Chapter Three - Basic Game Theory**

Since no one knew any better, LAPD at the door to the crime scene let all of the agents through, thinking that they were all on the case. If only they knew better, they wouldn't have let Don's team within a mile of the place.

Even though the coroner had taken away Bethany Jenkin's body, there was a large and sickening bloodstain on the carpet indicating clearly where she was lying. Colby crouched down and squinted it for a while, unfocussing his eyes so he could imagine the body there, and imagine the events leading up to her murder. Nikki made sure all of the LAPD units were clear of the room before pulling out her phone.

"This was the message left on you boss' answering machine." She pressed play, and the team listened, with mixed severity of expression. A female voice, presumably the victim's, rang out. They could tell from the first few words that something was wrong on her end of the line.

"Don, I need to talk to you." David and Liz exchanged worried looks. Messages starting with that phrase, or variations of that phrase, always ended in tears. "I'm at the Beauford Hotel, room one-one-eight. I know we have exactly been close recently, but this isn't about us. It's very important to me and I need your help." She disconnected suddenly, and Nikki cut the message off. The agents all looked at each other.

"I still don't know why he didn't tell us." Despite the fact that Nikki had explained what Don had told her, his team was still not buying it. Especially Megan. "Doesn't he know that he can tell us anything?" Colby stood up, and wandered over to the nightstand, starting to look through the drawers.

"Some things are better kept as secrets, Megan. Life works best that way." She knew that he was right, so she did not reply, merely hugged her shoulders as she looked at the crime scene in front of her.

"One more thing - this doesn't look like any normal murder." She added, a frown crumpling her forehead. The agents stared at her, Nikki included. "Look at where she was first stabbed." Megan motioned towards a spray of blood, which was now dry across the white wall near the bed. "Now look at where she was killed." The agents' heads moved, across the room, and Nikki caught on first.

"She ran towards the door." She concluded, staring up at Megan, in a moment which reminded all of the agents that she really was quite a bit younger than them, in terms of working with these situations. "What victim runs towards her attacker?" David carefully stepped around the arterial blood sprays across the floor, and into the ensuite bathroom.

"Unless the attacker was already in her hotel room." Peering into the bathroom, he found nothing out of the ordinary - nothing to prove their theory. "Which means that he was waiting for her here."

"Don was called from the number of the hotel. She was already in the room before he even got the message. Unless he's taken to climbing through six-storey windows, this means that he didn't do it!" Liz gushed, pleased that they had found a loophole in Lieve's theory. But her face fell as soon as she saw the expression on Nikki's face. "What's wrong now?"

"This isn't enough. No evidence. There needs to be something more." She had already taken the bottle of water from the trash that Lieve had given Don, and had sent it to the lab to be tested for anything out of the ordinary. But that wouldn't prove much either, without a confession. "When I was in the room with him, Eppes said that I should get Charlie to look at fingerprints, or something. I have the files here, but-"

"You, me and David, let's go to Charlie's. Colby, you and Liz see if you can find anything else here; talk to LAPD and see what conclusions they've come to. Talk to the people in the neighbouring rooms. Find out what happened on Tuesday night." Even though Nikki was the only one who was technically on the case, therefore the highest in rank, Megan took control and Nikki found herself following her orders. Now was not a time to battle for power. Right now they needed to prove that Don's innocence.

* * *

Charlie opened the door with the same expression he had worn when Nikki had told him of the FBI's suspicions. It didn't look like he had even moved from his spot on the sofa, because he returned to it as soon as he saw Megan at the door. She and David traded a worried look, and David branched off to find Alan.

They had been sitting in silence for a few minutes, when Charlie suddenly seemed to notice Nikki's presence.

"What are you doing here? Have you found something?" He gushed, jumping forwards and almost falling off the couch. Nikki glanced at Megan. She didn't know this man. It was best for his friend to do the talking, and her to just hold the badge for the time being.

"Charlie, we need your help to prove that your brother didn't do this." Megan said, slowly, and Charlie seemed to be struggling to keep up with her words. "We need you to look at some evidence that we found, and see what you can do." Charlie swallowed hard, and a determined, almost angry look came into his eyes.

"Anything that I can do."

As they watched him work in the garage, Megan appeared to have complete trust in Charlie's erratic swipes of chalk, but Nikki had the opposite opinion.

"This really works? I mean, it stands up in court and everything?" Megan laughed. She knew why Nikki found it doubtful - in the beginning she too thought it odd and circumstantial.

"Two plus two always equals four, but a witness statement can mean one hell of a lot of things." She replied, calmly, then turned her eyes back to the younger agent, who had her head cocked to the side as Charlie scribbled, trying in vain to understand half of his thought process. "Why are you doing this?" The question caught Nikki off guard, partly because she didn't even know the answer herself.

"Why am I doing this? I'm doing it because I don't think he's guilty of murder." She said, simply, her retort surprising even her.

"He practically took you hostage, that's what I heard." Nikki raised one eyebrow and Megan shrugged. "News travels fast in the elevators."

"There's just something about him that I trust. I don't know why, he's an impressive interrogator and I might just be jumping through hoops for him, but I don't know. It just feels like he's innocent." Glancing up at the older agent for confirmation, Megan nodded. That made sense to her, she felt the same way.

"You should think about doing a course in psychology. You have a good grasp on people." Megan touched her gently on the back, and David returned with Alan. Both had clearly been talking for a while, and Alan's eyes had a thin red rim. "Hey Alan." He smiled at her, and Nikki realised the dynamic between these people. The Eppes weren't just the three men - they were the whole team. Megan wasn't just Don's partner - she was his sister, even though sometimes she acted like a mother to Charlie. David was the uncle, as Don's second in command. Closer to Alan than he even was to Don sometimes, even though he looked up to him. The emotion and the loyalty binding the team to their friend caught Nikki's words in her throat. She watched Charlie for a little longer, not wanting to think about what would happen if Don was sent down for a crime that she was now almost certain he had not commited.

* * *

By the time Charlie had finished his preliminary analysis of the murderer's movements around the hotel room, Nikki had been and returned from work twice. Lieve was occupied with another case, luckily, and Don had been moved to a cell in the State Penitentiary where Nikki was sure that he was regretting his choice in career. When she went to visit him, two days after their earlier encounter, there were bruises on his arms, and a nasty looking discolouration along his cheekbone. His eyes looked a lot darker because of it, but they lightened considerably when he realised that she was not accompanied by her partner. A slight smile even graced his features as she entered, and sat down across from him.

"Didn't think I'd be seeing you again." He sounded relieved that she was there. "Security's watching us real careful now, and I have to be strung to the chair." She glanced down and sure enough, he was shackled to his chair and handcuffed to the table, so he could put his hands on the smooth metal surface, but do nothing more with them. "Are you here to give me good or bad news?" Nikki was pissed of and impressed that he just knew that she had believed him. Either he was hopeful or cocky, and neither gave her a very good read on his position.

"I'm here to figure out the truth." Nikki corrected him, not wanting to get too trusting of him. Last time that happened, she was held close to his chest while he muttered ransom demands in her ear. She kept her voice cold, even when she remembered the warmth of his lips as he had kissed her cheek. "The ME estimated the killer's height to be around six foot, of average build, and the cameras at the door got an angle of the back of his head. All criteria fits you." His eyes were cold again, but not towards her. He was frowning at the table, knowing that this was a problem."Your brother also made his own profile." His initial reaction was joy, but then his face fell.

"That won't stand up in court. He'll be branded as biased."

"That's why you're not out of here by now." He thought some more, his frown deepening further.

"You made him look at the crime scene photos while he thought I did it?" Nikki shook her head.

"He didn't see the body." He turned his head away when she used that term. "He only saw the hotel room, the bloodstains and the fingerprints and DNA left."

"Still." Don muttered. "In case you haven't noticed, he's a senstive guy."

"I'm just trying to find out what happened. Charlie wanted to help, so he did." She snapped, getting pissed off with the circle they were spinning round. "He made a catalogue of the killer's actions from the moment he came into the room from the time he left. The killer was already in the room before the victim." The second term referring to his ex-wife she had used made him feel sick too. "Which means that it wasn't you, because no one leaves a message on someone's machine only to be out when they come around. That just doesn't make sense. Also, Charlie's analysis implies this." Nikki pulled out a sheet of paper with lots of coloured lines on it.

"Pretty, but you gotta know that Charlie's the genius. I don't know what all this shit means." He said, almost glumly.

"The red lines are where the killer went before killing Bethany, and the blue lines show what he did after he killed her. The yellow dots are where they found your fingerprints, and where they found skin cells. Green is the blood spray patterns." Don surveyed the scene, shaking his head. "The killer goes out of his way to touch the windowsil and the bedside drawer handle. There's no reason for him to do that. Thus implying that they were planted, but only implying. There are lots of reasons for inconsistancies." Nikki wasn't ready to put all of her eggs in his metaphorical basket yet. "Also, they didn't find any smudged prints. They were all neat, and of your thumb and index finger. I don't have to tell you that those aren't the only fingers that people use to murder people."

"So what more does Lieve want?" Don asked, relieved.

"You thought you'd done it?" His relief had bugged Nikki, and now she knew why he was experiencing it. Since he couldn't remember that night, he had no idea if he had killed Bethany Jenkins or not. What was really pissing him off was not the fact that he could have, but the reasons why he would have. He could find none. He didn't reply to her question, because they were on tape, but the look on his face said it all. "And what does this have to do with Lieve?" No games now, the glance that he threw her was completely innocent.

"This has nothing to do with Lieve." '_Well now I feel silly for blocking him out'._

"I need you to think, Agent Eppes, why would anyone want us to believe that you were guilty of killing your ex-wife?" Her words were loud and deliberate, clear as day on the tape. Don, having written the interrogation handbook, caught on immediately.

"Apparently, if an agent is investigating someone for fraud, that's a motive."

"You mean hypothetically?"

"I have no idea what the real reason is, but that would make an awful lot of sense, wouldn't it?" The tone of his voice was cocky - he knew that this was a trick people used all the time to communicate certain pieces of information without actually admitting it on tape. That meant that the tape wouldn't meant shit in court. "What do you think, Agent Betancourt?"

"Well _hypothetically_, I would think that if there was nothing on this agent's network system or personal computer, he would be keeping it elsewhere. What do you think?" She matched his tone perfectly, and the corners of his mouth turned up. He was liking this Agent Betancourt more and more.

"I suppose _hypothetically_, this agent would keep it in a safety deposit box. It's the safest place to be." Nikki could not help but to smirk. This guy definitely knew how to play the game. "But this is all hypothetical." And he knew how to win the game. It was an unspoken deal - he would give her the evidence if she showed him that she was worthy of his trust. This wasn't about trading information anymore. She had to do something which is of no use to her, to help him. Basic game theory.

"I'll keep that in mind." Nikki gathered her things, making sure to keep eye contact as much as possible. Those cool brown eyes just kept staring back at her, an edge of flirtation curving his mouth. "Thank you for your cooperation, Agent Eppes." She stood, and he smiled back, exuding confidence.

"And thank you for yours, Nikki." His use of her first name almost unnerved her, but at the same time it left her breathless. But instead of showing anything to him, she turned on her heel and left, concealing her smile by her turned back. Security moved in to unshackle Don, and he lolled his head back, smiling at them disconcertingly.

"I think she likes me." He informed them, playfully. They skillfully ignored him, and he chuckled as they led him back to his cell. He had decided in his short stint in the penetentiary that he liked playing games - he could see why the dirtbags did it. It was quite fun.


	4. The Immensely Bad Idea Comes to Fruition

**Chapter Four - The Immensely Bad Idea Comes to Fruition**

Keeping Don's words in mind, Nikki's first move was to involve Lieve. Now she thought about it, she had no real reason to suspect him - only his insistance that their suspect was emotionally unstable. Which wasn't too far a stretch from trying to keep your arresting officer hostage in her own holding room. Don was right. Her partner had nothing to do with this.

So she sat down in the chair beside his desk, feeling guiltier than hell, and told him the entire story of what had happened over the past three days. Naturally, he was pissed.

"You did what? Do you know how long that it took for me to actually get his search warrant? If you bog me down with circumstantial evidence, Eppes might never get the punishment he deserves!" He hissed, careful to keep his voice down. Agent Miller approached them, upon hearing Eppes' name. Nikki didn't trust him though - she had only worked with him on this case, and she hadn't even seen his face for the best part of the past three days.

"It's okay, Miller. We have things under control." Nikki made herself clear, and Miller scowled before retiring back to his desk, to finish up some surveillance paperwork on another case. Her partner was watching her curiously now, his anger sliding away from him upon realising that she was serious. Knowing her better than most other people, he knew that now was the time to change his tactic.

"What are you planning to do?" The tone of his voice was softer now, and quieter still. No longer did he sound angry - just curious. Nikki banished the voice that told her that he had something to do with this whole mess to the very back of her brain, and leaned further in, so they could speak in more strict privacy. "I know that there's doubt among a lot of the agents as to whether he did it or not, DNA evidence be damned."

"DNA evidence can be planted." Nikki rephrased, staring at Lieve closely. She was curious about the amount of expression on his usually expressionless face. Maybe the case got to him too and he was just better at hiding it. "And I think that it was. Charlie Eppes did an analysis and it's pretty specific that the killer wouldn't have touched the windowsill or the bedside table drawers. But as you said, it's circumstantial, and without another person to pin this down on, Eppes will go down."

"What are you suggesting though? That we implicate someone else? We've already looked for motives pertaining to the victim-"

"It doesn't have anything to do with the victim. It has to do with an agent he's investigating. He said that he has evidence." Nikki whispered back, even though a higher volume would not have attracted any more attention in the busy office. Lieve snorted.

"That's our department." He said, sounding distrustful. "Do we know where he's keeping the evidence?" Nikki shook her head, and his face returned to its usual unreadable state.

"I know that it's in a safety deposit box, but he won't tell me where." Lieve cursed to himself.

"It would take years to search all of the boxes in LA." Nikki nodded grimly.

"And that's just if he's stupid enough to hide it in LA. It might be en route to Cuba by now for all we know. We need him to talk to us, and he's not going to do that while he's still in the Penetentiary." Lieve's eyes narrowed further.

"This is the last time I'm going to ask this: What are you suggesting that we do?" Nikki grimaced. She was full of immensely bad ideas this week.

* * *

Lieve and Nikki sat down across from Don in the small stuffy metal cage and they all stared at each other for a while. Miller paced around the three agents, hands clasped behind his back. Unlike in their first interrogation of him, Don's eyes were not locked with Lieve's, but instead with Nikki's. While his expression was confident, she could tell that he was wary of what they were doing here, and why they had brought all three arresting officers. Either this meant that they were letting him go, or putting him down. He daren't speclate which.

Miller didn't know the plan, he was just here for plausible deniability. Miller was good for that - he never asked questions. Since his stint in the military, he followed orders from anyone higher in the food chain, and swallowed his own opinion.

"Agent Eppes, I have come to the attention of a hypothetical conversation you and my partner had the other day." Lieve began, and a slow smile came onto Don's face. This was the start of a deal, he could tell. When he spoke though, it was directed at Nikki. She was the deal broker, and she was the one in charge.

"Yeah? I have lots of hypothetical conversations. I was just talking to the guard about hypothetically, what kind of underwear you'd wear." He cocked his head to the side. "I saw you as a red lace kind of girl." Due to lots of hard work and training, not a muscle twitched on Nikki's face, but he saw the glint in her eyes which meant she was amused. She liked his games.

"Hypothetically, an agent would tell us the information we need if they were outside this place, in the fresh air." She offered, and he immediately sobered up, and leaned forwards.

"Keep talking hypothetically, baby, I like it." His undertones were serious, even though he kept the arrogant facade.

"Just out of curiousity, you know the schematics of this building, don't you?" He nodded - something that wouldn't be on the tape and he was pretty sure that the security camera in the corner had been shut down. "So you know that when you're guided back to your cell, you'll be able to see us leaving." Nodding again, his smile faltered in faint surprise. He knew that they were going to cut a deal. He didn't think that they were going to cut this one. Nikki gave him a small smile as she left. "Make sure to wave us goodbye." Don's smile was back and bigger than the Cheshire Cat's.

"I won't disappoint you Agent." They walked away, Nikki holding her file to her chest and her head held high. Lieve looking a lot less pleased, but thinking hard. Worried, even, about what they were about to do. Regathering their weapons at the front desk, Nikki walked back to the gate, looking hard through it and hoping to God that this was going to work.

Miller had been in the office for a couple of minutes, sorting out paperwork with the warden under Lieve's command, when sirens blew up all around them, just as Don was led out of the interrogation cell, which was the one closest to the door. Immediately, the front gates opened, and Nikki rushed forwards, along with ten other guards who were on the door.

There was a lot of yelling, where the warden ordered an evacuation of the prisoners, and tried to trip the override codes. But, thanks to Amita's computer skills, they weren't working. A guard thumped her on the back on the way past, and she realised that it was Lieve, so she watched him and his fellow 'guard' Colby stride boldly into the fray, heading straight towards towards Eppes. No one could see their faces properly through their helmets.

The two guards holding him were caught. They had sectors that they had to go and manually evacuate, but they couldn't just leave Don behind. Lieve and Colby grabbed Don roughly by the arms, and Colby shouted something about reinforcements. Within the fray; the alarm and the warden's shouts, the guards nodded and shoved a handcuffed Don towards them, and ran away to join their colleagues.

Nikki led the warden away from the office, saying that they needed to help - his men weren't enough. It took them two minutes to kit up and grab their firearms before they were out, as well as all but one guard, who stayed at the front desk. It was shift change - Nikki knew that. So everyone's placings were messed up, making it even harder for them to organise themselves. Thus buying them more time. The biocontamination alarms pounded relentlessly on their eardrums as they ran straight past Don, Colby and Lieve. The warden missed the thumbs up that Nikki shot them, telling them that the coast was clear.

After waiting about half a minute until the corridor was practically clear, they tightened their grip on Don and marched him straight past the front desk. Amita was keeping the guard so busy with her skills that he didn't even look up from the computer screen, trying to determine what area the computers had detected a biohazard in.

Once through the front doors, all three men broke into a run, and Colby and Don jumped into a waiting SUV. Lieve patted the back of the SUV, and Megan, the driver, nodded before driving away, under the speed limit as not to attract too much attention to herself. Lieve watched them go with a grim look on his face, hoping to God that they reached the motel without problem. This was his career on the line as well.

* * *

As soon as Megan dropped Don off, her and Colby drove away, to go to the office. David would insist that they'd been there for longer than they actually had, and the time difference would go unnoticed by the rest of the people on the floor. They would be so busy with the prison break that they wouldn't even look up if Don himself walked through the bullpen.

Inside the room, Charlie and Amita were waiting, navigating their untraceable way away from the jail's computer system. They both looked exhilerated, and Don felt so happy that he could see his brother like that again. Before greeting them, he pulled the curtains. Even under the cover of darkness, he could be identified. No doubt his face would be all over the news in the next few hours. But then, he would be able to make a case against the 18th Street Mexicali mole in the FBI.

"Don!" Charlie tripped over his chair in his enthusiasm to reach his brother, then caught him in a tight embrace, which Don returned without hesitation. He hadn't realised how much he'd missed his baby brother in the mere three days they had been apart. "You did it!" Don looked around, bemused.

"I did it? Everyone else did it, and I want to know exactly what _it_ was!" Even though he was trying to be serious, he was just too damn happy to see Charlie again. He hadn't realised how much he needed his little brother around. "Now brief me." Amita skipped over and gave her boyfriend's brother a big hug.

"Well first we hacked into the penetentiary's system and set of the decontamination alert, which means that they need to get everyone out, fast." She boasted, looking extremely pleased with herself, and for good reason. "Then, the agents," She glanced sideways at Charlie for their names, since she had never actually met Nikki or Lieve in person.

"Agents Lieve and Betancourt." Charlie piped up, unecessarily.

"Yeah, them. They engineered the rest." The story ended faster than Don had expected, and he raised an eyebrow in question. Amita shrugged. "They don't really talk to us much. David and Megan just called, and told us that if we didn't want to visit you in jail for the rest of your life, we should do this. So we did, and here you are!" Don grinned at their beaming enthusiasm.

"I can't believe that you did that." It was Charlie's turn to raise his eyebrow.

"You can't believe that we did that? You're a fugitive. Remember those people that you used to hunt for weeks on end?" Don pretended to flick something at his brother, who ducked automatically, making Amita giggle.

"So where's Nikki?" Charlie looked blank for a moment, then seemed to remember.

"Oh, Agent Betancourt! She had to have plausible deniability or something, so she'll be here in about an hour, if not more. She said that she and Lieve have to see the whole thing though. She clearly doesn't trust you enough to go after the evidence yourself." Charlie said, and Don looked around himself, wandering over to the double bed in the middle of the cheap motel room.

"She's trusting me enough to stay here with you two." The mathematicians stared at him blankly. "Well you're not exactly trained agents. I could beat you both in a footrace, and don't even get me started on what I could do with hand to hand combat." Charlie stuck out his tongue, then sighed. The series of laptops operating automatically in the corner let out a series of beeps, and both of Don's resident geeks ran over to see what was happening.

"They have control of the system again, and they're trying to track us. Amita?" Before Charlie had even the time to ask the question, Amita answered it.

"Rerouting to Housten, Texas."

"Biting?"

"Yup... Sydney, Australia." Both of the geniuses grinned at their screens, and Don shook his head from where he was lying, hands behind his head and staring at the ceiling. It amused him; how much fun they were having. "London, England. Seattle. Washington D.C. Think they're catching on?" Amita practically squealed, pleased to have outwitted yet someone else.

"Yeah, I think that we're safe... yeah. They're stopping their track. We can disconnect safely - they're not going to be able to track us remotely." Don knew that his last part of explanation was for him alone, but he didn't care anymore. He was just glad to be out of that damn cell.

"Charlie?"

"Hmm?"

"C'mere." The younger man pulled himself off of his chair as his girlfriend began to pack away their computers, and walked over to sit by his brother's prone frame.

"What, Don?" Without taking his eyes from the offwhite paint of the ceiling, Don sought Charlie's hand where it lay by his side, and held it firmly.

"You did real good today, buddy. Thanks for not believing that I could... that I could do that." They both knew that he was referring to the murder and rape of Bethany Jenkins. Which opened another can of worms.

"Why didn't you tell me that you got married? What about dad - why didn't you tell him? Are we really that bad to talk to?" Charlie questioned, and by the tone of this voice, Don knew that his brow would be creased and his lip would be pouting. He felt hurt by Don's deceit, and there was no way that his older brother could blame him. After all, he put a lot of trust in Don, and although he never asked for it in return, it was fair to say that he expected it.

"I just... Buddy, you gotta understand that I was young. I was never like you. I was never the special one, I was just the one who got into fights and was good at sport." Don took a deep and calming breath. "What would you have thought if I told you that I got married to someone that I barely knew, just based on my instinct?" Charlie shrugged, answering straight away, as if it was obvious.

"I'd think that you were being irrational."

"Yeah, exactly. And what would mom have thought?"

"Mom would be angry because you didn't try to make it work."

"I tried-"

"You know mom. No one can ever try hard enough."

"That's my point! I did try, to be every part as good as you, the child prodigy, was, but I just didn't make the cut! It's that simple. I didn't want to have the brand of a failed marriage as well as the brand of a failed baseball career. So I thought that if I just kept it quiet, then no one would be able to hold it against me." Still, Don refused to look at his brother, even though his brother was staring at him with a shocked intensity.

"I would never hold it against you-"

"How do you know?" Finally, they made eye contact, and surprisingly, Charlie was the first to look away. "I can't change how things were, and mom was dying. I didn't want her to see me as a failure. She deserved to go believing that she brought me up well."

"She _did_ bring you up well." Charlie said, quietly, and both men lapsed into silence, speech halted by their thoughts. "At least, I thought she did a pretty good job." Don gave his hand a little squeeze.

"Thanks Buddy. But I can't change how things were." With a sigh, he let go of Charlie and rubbed his face.

"From now on though, I don't want you to keep secrets from me. It's one thing not to tell Megan, David, Colby and Liz, but it's another thing completely not to tell your own brother. They are close enough to be family, but I _am_ family." Charlie pouted. "I have priority." The childishness of his tone made Don chuckle.

"If it makes you feel any better, I didn't tell them, either!" Shaking his head, Charlie stood from the bed.

"Well I have to go. I have to be back in my office in about ten minutes when they finally find out that you're missing. If they have half a brain between them, they'll put the hacking and your mathematician brother together and get the right answer, so I have to have plausible deniability." Charlie grabbed his computer bag, and his briefcase, which Amita had silently packed for him while he and his brother were talking. "I hope that Lieve and Betancourt help you find what you're looking for."

"Me too." Don replied, with a hint of bitterness, but kept it in well enough for the oblivious mathematician not to notice. He was never too smart when it came to people anyway. "See you later, hopefully." Charlie smiled, and followed Amita out of the door, closing it behind him with a soft thump. Leaving Don and the ceiling to ponder life, the universe and everything in it.

* * *

Nikki and Lieve were bordering on breaking the speed limit as they drove towards the motel room they had set Charlie and Amita up with. Even though Nikki was pretty damn sure that Don hadn't done anything wrong, this was still a lot to entrust on a convict, innocent or not. Even the innocents run, and she knew that there was a possibility that Don would have too.

"This had better worked." Lieve growled at her, and she didn't need to be Megan the profiler to know that he was pissed at her. This had all been her idea, you see, though if when they arrived at the motel, Don was nowhere to be found, the FBI would pound down on both of their asses, so hard that they would be seeing their own... you get the idea.

"Yeah, it will have." Despite Nikki's lack of superstition, she still muttered 'Touch wood' under her breath, as they turned into the motel's parking lot. The light in room six, the one which they had rented earlier for cash, was off, and there was no visible movement inside. Quickly shutting off their lights and being careful not to be too noisy slipping out of their SUV, Nikki and Lieve drew their weapons as they crept towards the room.

The door was open, like they had expected, and Lieve covered Nikki as she darted inside and flicked the light switch. To their surprise, and relief, there was Don, lying casually on the motel bed. Looking nonplussed and slightly worried at the sight of their firearms.

"Betancourt." He acknowledged, rolling sideways off the bed and holding his hands in the air. "Feel free to search me, but I'm not packing anything that I shouldn't be." While this convinced Nikki to stow away her weapon, Lieve merely lowered his, unnerving Don.

"Take us to the safety deposit box." Nikki ordered, not allowing herself to become distracted by the lack of bars or restraint separating them. "There's not a lot of time before someone tracks us down." Well, they were safe for now, but she always like to get things done in plenty of time. Don grinned, arrogantly, ignoring Lieve completely and continuing to address Nikki like she was the one in charge.

"What, no foreplay?" Rolling her eyes, she moved forwards, crossing her arms across her chest.

"I need to be back in the office in..." She checked her watch, nervously. "...not that long, so we need the location now." Don shook his head.

"No way. I'm coming with you, hands free, no guns. I'll drive." He countered, hands on his hips and speaking like he owned them. Once more, he was the one making the calls. Nikki seemed to accept this, for it was her general plan to start with. Lieve, on the other hand, shook his head immediately.

"No way in hell." He elaborated. "We broke you out of prison. We deserve a little more trust than you're presently giving us." Don cocked his head to the side, and watched Lieve in a way which reminded him somewhat of a teacher frowning upon the bad-mouthing of a child. "I'll bring you to the place, if you give me directions, and I'll give you a change of clothes." Don glanced down at his bright orange attire and silently concluded that was a good idea. "But you're not getting a gun, a badge or anything else. I will bring a gun because you are an escaped convict, and quite frankly I don't trust you." Nodding, Don also concluded that he wouldn't either.

"Deal." He said, sharply, before Lieve could say anything more. Nikki smirked at his negotiation skills. By offering unmeetable conditions, he had made the other negotiator offer very reasonable demands, while he was still under the impression that they were being restrictive. Negotiation 101 - Don clearly wrote a chapter in that book as well.

"Fine." Lieve turned back to his partner, who was pulling some clothes out of a bag which Lieve had carried in the back of his SUV, and handing them to Don. Her fingers lingered a little longer than necessary as they brushed against his, and Don's cheshire cat impression merely intensified. "Nikki, if you go back to the FBI now, they can't link you with anything," She looked surprised that he was using himself as the scapegoat, after his doubt on their way over. "Take the SUV, I have another car parked in the lot which I thought we might need."

"Are you sure that you don't need help?" She asked, shocked by his sudden heroism. "I mean, I should take at least some of the blame." Lieve smiled wryly, turning his eyes back to Don, who was watching the agents curiously, not sure what to make of the sudden change in plan. "Plus, if he shoots me, you have to be the one to track him down and haul his ass to the death chamber." Don smiled. Ah, there were his reasons.

Shaking her head disapprovingly, Nikki let herself look at Don again, hoping that this was not the last time that she would be able to do so, and nodded. Her partner's logic made complete sense.

"You'll be able to reach me on my cell if anything happens." She assured them, though she felt herself talking to Don more than Lieve. She had a bad feeling about this. "Good luck." Also directed more at Don, though she didn't look at him and Lieve interpreted as she was really talking to all three of them.

"We'll be fine." He assured her, with a small smile. "Go." With a swift sigh and a flourish, Nikki turned and strode away, out of the dimly lit motel room and back to their vehicle. Lieve leaned over to close the door, and the clip of her footsteps were cut out, and only the faint sound of sirens punctuated the wooden frame. Sirens which were no doubt meant for him. "So Eppes. You gonna tell me where that deposit box is or not?"

Immediately, Don knew that the deal was off. The moment that Lieve had asked Nikki to leave, he knew that there was something decidedly wrong about the entire affair. But, very aware of the gun Lieve was holding against his thigh, he replied as casually as he could.

"Drive me in your makebelieve car, and I'll give you directions." Lieve gritted his teeth, realising that Don had seem straight through his terms, because he had fallen for the tough deal trick so readily. "I'm not going to give you the directions to go anywhere. There is no safety deposit box." Lieve narrowed his eyes, as Don sat back on the bed, regarding him with distaste and dislike.

"You're bluffing. I'm not stupid, Eppes." Don raised his eyebrow. "It's the coverup that gave you away." Lieve elaborated, cruelly, and tightened his hold on his gun. Don remained calm on the outside, though his heart was beating faster with every second. Another minute or two and he would have a coronary.

"Fooled me, Lieve. When Nikki won't get that call, she'll get suspicious. She doesn't trust you anymore, Lieve. She trusts me, and she's going to do anything to prove that I'm innocent."

"You're wrong." Lieve replied, just as calm on the outside. "Betancourt only did all of this so I could get you alone. So I could find the box before anyone else got it out of you." A slow smile spread on Don's face, though it had bitter tones rather than joyous ones.

"Like you said, fuckhead. It's the coverup that gave you away." It was clear to both men that Don was antagonising Lieve. Not calling the IA agent's bluff, like Lieve hadn't called his, was part of the game that they were playing. This one was not as light hearted and teasing as his and Nikki's games though. This was Russian roulette, and right now Don was the one with his finger on the trigger.

"Don't think that you can do this and get away with it." The calm was there, but both men could now see through it, through to the panic and unease that bubbled just beneath their smooth surfaces. "Nikki will hang you up to dry." Lieve shook his head, raising his gun so it was level to Don's head. At this distance, he couldn't possibly miss.

"With what evidence?" A muscle twitched in Don's jaw, making Lieve chuckle. "Cuff yourself." He threw the handcuffs from his belt across onto Don's lap. "Tighter." Don gritted his teeth as he tightened the cuffs, killing any chance of escape that way. He would have said to Nikki earlier that there was something wrong with Lieve, but he had just been too damn scared that he would shoot her and stage a rescue gone wrong, with him as the hero.

"You won't get away with this." Don muttered the well known line, but Lieve just rolled his eyes.

"Yes I will, I always will. And there's nothing that you can do to stop me." Despite Don's boiling hate, annoyance and frustration felt for this man, he had to acknowledge with a sinking feeling deep in his stomach, that Lieve was right. Even though it really pissed him off to admit it.

* * *

Nikki reached the car, and took a deep cleansing breath of air. The night was cold; more so than she would have thought considering the heat of the day before, and she pulled her jacket around herself, digging in her pockets for her keys. She had taken her time, walking to the car, even though it was imperative that she arrived back at the office soon. The absence of two arresting officers of the escaped convict is downright suspicious, so people would speculate less with only one.

Heaving a sigh, Nikki glanced around herself, just to check that there was no one nearby who could testify that they saw her. Not that it would matter, once Don gave them the evidence he had. Where the hell were her keys?

Thinking back, she retraced her steps. She put them in her pocket after her and Lieve left the car, they walked to the motel room, she took out the bag of clothes, and used her keys to rip the plastic of the bag. Nikki hit her head none too gently against the driver's side window of the SUV, realising that after she had opened the bag with her keys, she had set them down on the table by the motel phone.

Rolling her eyes at her own stupidity, she strolled back towards the motel room. All of this dirty agent business was really getting to her head. Even though she had only worked there for a few months, she was seriously thinking about changing her job desciption. She became a fed to put criminals behind bars. Someone else could do the depressing job of putting cops in there with them.

Knowing that the door would be open, she walked straight in, wondering why the light was once agian out. Had they left and she hadn't even noticed? No, they had to just be in there... sitting in the dark? Reaching over to flick on the light switch, two things happened at once. The room was illuminated, at the same time as the door was kicked shut behind her, the sudden influx of sound and light disorientating her. Then, a mere split second after her eyes had adjusted to the light, and focussed on the figure cuffed on the bed, everything went black again.

* * *

_Review to find out what happens next - I've finished the story, but I'm only posting if I get reviews!! So give me feedback and you'll find out how Don and Nikki get out of this little pickle._

_-Seven x x_


	5. Safety Policy

**Chapter Five - Safety Policy**

Charlie sat silently in his car all the way to CalSci, letting his girfriend drive for once. The interaction with his brother had shocked him into silence; he was expecting something more than a rounded of explanation. He was... Charlie didn't know what he was expecting, but it most certainly was not Don's calm voice and reassuring hand, trying to make everything better for his little brother when even Charlie could tell that he was worried inside. And Charlie had never had that much of a great read on people.

"Charlie, you're going to need your key pass." Amita said loudly, puncturing his reverie.

"Of course." Charlie mumbled, fumbling in his pockets for the lamenated ID card, which would let them into the CalSci parking lot after eleven and before five in the morning. Ever since some acts of vandalism and threats on the premises, and the incident with the thirty year old physics undergrad, security had been upgraded to an impressive level.

As usual, they had to wait at the car gate while Charlie scrambled in his deep pockets for anything and everything of use. He extracted some papers, two pens, one pencil, his keys, a tape measure, a couple of spare coins, and... aha! Charlie showed his ID to the security guard, whose severe expression split into a warm smile, before letting him through. Amita chose to park near the building, and they made good time, knowing that under the cover of darkness, no one would be able to remember their faces, or which time they arrived. With a strange dose of excitement, both were realising what it was like to be doing a job like Don's.

Charlie unlocked his office, the other contents of his pockets still crumpled in his hands, and let himself and Amita into the 'ordered' clutter, where they fitted in their computer bags and briefcases wherever they could. Amita logged herself into the CalSci system, more than ready to just sit down and do some work, while Charlie remained standing, even though his chair was free and his desktop was on. Eventually, the younger mathematician noticed that something was wrong with him.

"Charlie, what's wrong?" She asked deliberately and slowly, knowing that a surprised Charlie offers no information. "Are you okay?" Charlie shook his head, as slow as she was talking, and dazedly offered a small piece of paper for her to read. On it, read the numbers: A7403-697.

Amita blinked, then looked up.

"What does that mean?" It always shocked her when Charlie shrugged. "Did Don give you this?" Charlie thought back to when they were sitting on that bed, talking about his reasoning. Don could have easily slipped the piece of paper into his pocket.

"Yeah, he did, I guess." Although surprised, his large brain was already working out possibilities as to what this combination of numbers and letters meant, and he had already narrowed it down. Amita, on the other hand, was taking a much more simple and effective approach.

"Don said that the evidence which would prove him innocent was in a safety deposit box, right?" Amita asked and Charlie nodded, still occupied with his mental search for answers. "So it makes sense that he's given us either the location or even the box number of the one which it's in." Charlie nodded again, realisation dawning as his own mental search reached a similar conclusion.

"The first set of numbers and letters, that's a code which the government uses for shipping purposes. Don would have access to such a number, while a civilian wouldn't." They weren't just starting to think like FBI agents - they were starting to talk like them too. "The second number must be the box number." Eyes meeting, both of the resident geeks grinned, having found the answers that they were looking for.

"Tell you what: I'll find the bank if you call Megan." Amita offered, and Charlie nodded, immediately pulling out his phone as she turned back to her computer, and began typing away furiously, thanking her access to the FBI mainframe, as a registered consultant.

"Calling Megan..." Charlie commentated as her phone made the first ring. It was picked up before the second.

"Reeves?" Megan sounded desperately hopeful, though she did not really know what to expect at a time like this. "Charlie, is that you?"

"Yeah, Megan, Don told us where the box is." He actually heard her signal the others, and he realised that they must be back at the office, dealing with the fallout of Don's escape. They would technically be the ones trying to find him, along with a fugitive recovery unit. "It's in-" Amita grabbed the cellphone out of his hand and held it to her own ear as she typed.

"It's under the name Kyle Dennis, it's in the Vale Orion bank, if you flash your badge and ask for box six, nine, seven, you'll find all of the evidence you need." She said, calmly and slowly, so Megan had time to write everything down. "I hope you find it."

"Yeah, me too. Are you with Don right now?"

"No, we left the motel a while back. We're at CalSci. Don left a note in Charlie's pocket." While Amita did not study human behaviour, she knew that Megan's silence was odd, to say the least. Suspicious, even.

"Why would he do that?" The female agent said, after a small pause.

"I don't know, but I think that-"

"Yeah, I'm on my way to check it out with Colby." Amita nodded. "Good luck in fending off the bloodsuckers who are going to come knocking on your doors. Just think about what happened, and make sure that you don't have the exact same witness account. Vary slightly, but not too much." With that last curt order, Megan disconnected, leaving Amita with the all but charming company of the dial tone. She looked sideways at her boyfriend, whose forehead was creased in worry. "There's nothing that we can do now but wait."

Both mathematicians knew that something was wrong when they realised Don had secretively slipped the box number into Charlie's pocket. Even if it was just a safety net, they knew that they Don felt unsafe. Now whether that was because he was a hunted, escaped rapist and murderer or because he did not trust the people he was relying on to prove his innocence, neither genius knew, but they both hoped that for once, Don's instinct was wrong.

* * *

Megan brought Colby to the bank, while sending Liz and David to the motel which Don, Lieve and Nikki had rendevouzed in. Even though there was nothing really to suggest that something was wrong, Megan usually operated on the 'better safe than sorry' setting. So, she and Colby were the information getters, not because she thought that they would be the best at the job, but because Colby was the one she trusted the most. Not that she didn't trust the others. Or that she'd admit it to his face.

"It's going to take us like twenty-five minutes to get there, with our sirens on." Colby informed her. "While we're breaking every single speeding law in California." Megan buckled up.

"The sirens are there for a reason." She shot back, though she knew that this wasn't official business. It was best not to attract too much attention to themselves. Without the sirens, it would take more like forty minutes. "Liz and David better be using them."

"Liz and David will take at most thirty-five minutes to get there. Traffic ain't bad this time of night." Colby said calmly, turning at a junction at a high speed. That was Colby's thing. No matter the situation, he was always calm; it must be some sort of army training that he went through.

"Well they'd better get there in time." Megan replied, hastily. Even though she was trying to keep her emotions in check, Colby saw straight through her mask.

"Don will be fine." He hastened to say, his heart breaking as the woman in the seat next to him turned her face away from him, not wanting him to see the brokeness in her eyes. "We'll make sure of it." Moistened green eyes watched him, almost distrustfully, for a moment before they were accompanied by a faint smile.

"Thanks Granger." The younger man nodded, keeping his eyes straight ahead and his face emotionless, but he could not help the twitch of his lips as his colleague touched his knee. She was relying on him to keep her through this, he knew that was why she had brought him instead of Liz or David.

"No problem Reeves."

* * *

Nikki awoke with a crick in her neck so violent that she whined, and sat up straight. She was lying on the motel bed, facing the uneventful edge of the room, and she thought for a moment that she was alone until she noted Don's struggling body, on his knees on her right side. Lieve was directly on her left, staring at them both intensely.

"Hey, Nik." The softness of his voice sickened her and aggrivated her. "How you feeling?" Having no idea whether her partner was acting sarcastic or garden variety psycho, she glared at him, and upon realising that she was not tied up, unlike Don, balled her fists. Lieve had a gun, and she knew he was a damn good shot, which was the only thing stopping her from leaping onto him and gouging his eyes out.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" Nikki asked, trying her best to keep her emotions in check, and cursing how her tone was wavering. She still couldn't believe what was going down. "You realise the consequences for us if he's really innocent, and we kill him?" The look on Lieve's face was priceless - he was clearly trying to decide whether to trust his partner or not.

"Some things have to be done. The contents of that safety deposit box include the whereabouts of a very important person to me. This person has to be dealt with." Lieve's voice was cold, and Nikki felt a colder rush of hatred for the man who she had greatly repected less than a week before.

"You'll never get to him, you realise?" Don drawled, self-confidently, from the carpet. Nikki groaned inwardly. He wasn't making matters any easier. "There are wardens everywhere on the scene, and my team's already on it's way to getting his location. There's no way that you'll get there first." Lieve smirked.

"You're bluffing." He drawled back, in the exact same tone, just to aggrivate Don. The irony of the situation was that Don wasn't buffing at all, but he had no idea when his brother would find the note in his pants pocket. It could be days, or even forever, by the time he finds anything at all. What an hour ago seemed like an unecessary safety policy might be the only thing keeping him from prosecution and a life in prison being beat up by lowlives which he helped put there.

"I'm not bluffing." Don half-lied. "I'm telling the truth, and-"

"Shut up, Eppes." Nikki hissed. "You can make a deal here. We'll be leniant. We might even admit that the whole jailbreak was our own sting operation, then your baby brother will be saved from prison. You tell us where the evidence is, we won't push for maximum security, and you'll at least be able to see your family, not through six inch glass." Lieve himself was surprised by the harshness in Nikki's tone. Had he a wrong grasp on where her loyalties lay?

"She's right, Don." Both IA agents stared Don down, their eyes relentless. "You have no other option if you want you brother to get off free." Don frowned. This was bogus! If he didn't tell them where to get the information, even if Lieve killed him, then Charlie would get off free because he would eventually find it anyway, and prove his innocence, and thus proving his. Yeah, he might be suspended from the FBI for another while, but Don was pretty sure that Charlie would say that it was worth it. But, since Nikki was making the deal, and she had such a warning look in her eye, he nodded, slowly.

"I can accept those terms." He almost whispered. This wasn't acting - it hurt him to agree to this injustice, and even if he and Nikki managed to overpower Lieve, if in fact Nikki was on his side, he would have this criminal deal on his conscience for a very long time.

With a curt nod and a sigh, Lieve stood up sharply, not holstering his gun, but letting it lie by his side. The opposite side to where Nikki was standing, making it almost impossible for her to overpower him. She had to wait for the right moment.

"Nikki, I have to ask you a favour." The edge on Lieve's voice was biting. "Get him to tell you where the safety deposit box is." Immediately, Nikki felt the bile rising in her throat, and her hands shook slightly as he handed her the gun. Physical interrogation, that's what he wanted. A shot to the knee, the thigh, the stomach. All three for an agent as hard to break as she suspected Don was. Stony faced, she was going to have to shoot justice in the face to suvive this. On the other hand, she was the one with the gun.

Throwing one last glance at Lieve, which revealed all, she pointed the gun directly at him. Unsurprised, Lieve watched her calmly, putting up his hands. He was holding cuffs, though made absolutely no attempt to attach them to his wrists.

"Cuff yourself." Nikki was shaking - she wasn't used to all this crap. Dirty agents were one thing, but her own partner? She couldn't deal with all this crap. "Do it now." Lieve just watched her, in a very nasty way. Even though he was half expecting it, he felt betrayed.

"No." He iterated, and Nikki glanced over at Don, who was utterly confused. Lieve was a narcissist. He would do anything and everything to assure that he was not taken in by the police, but at the same time he would do endlessly more just to assure that he wasn't killed by the police. Death is worse than everything, in this narcissists' eyes. So Don knew from that word, exactly what was going to happen after Nikki pulled that trigger.

* * *

_This one was shorter, but I thought I'd leave you on this cliffhanger. Did you enjoy it? If so (or not) do tell me why. _


	6. Double Bluff

**Chapter Six - Double Bluff**

The empty click of the gun echoed in the small room, and Nikki could have sworn her heart stopped. She had been almost ready to shoot her partner - something in itself which was an extremely difficult thing to do, but once more, everything had changed. The gun was not loaded. There was no way to hurt this man, who had hurt her and hurt Don. She was once more helpless in his sights, and even though her finger still lingered on the trigger, he was the only one holding a gun. Nikki cursed herself. Had she really believed that Lieve would buy her loyalty so easily? Life didn't work that way. No, life worked so that her only weapon against the man she had formerly trusted was an empty gun.

"Thought so." He threw the cuffs at her, and Nikki fell back onto the bed, startled and broken, before reluctantly snapping them onto her wrists. Unlike Don, her partner didn't need to tell her to tighten the cuffs - her angry movements made sure that she couldn't slip out of them. "I think that you should tell me, Agent Eppes, where the evidence is." The look on defiance on Don's face both strengthened and shook Nikki's resolve. Lieve wasn't a man who anyone should lie to.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Don replied, though it was clear to all three agents that he had given up. Head of Violent Crimes Department had been through a lot in the past three days, emotionally and physically. He had been arrested, drugged, kicked, punched and beaten with a spoon by his cellmate, and his body was just about to give up. He had witnessed the woman he had once loved so very much, mutilated and broken on the floor of a hotel room, just because of his job. It was fair to say that although he was now resigned and shattered, his resolve had lasted one hell of a lot longer than most men.

"Eppes, don't play with me. I will find the box." Though Don and Nikki were expecting Lieve to walk towards Don, he instead retreated slightly, and pulled out his phone, keeping eye contact with him the whole time. He dialled a number, and held the phone to his ear. "Do you have him in your sights?" Don's brow creased, this time really unsure about what Lieve was talking about. "Good." Lieve took the cellphone away from his ear briefly and pressed a button on the screen, before strolling forwards with an irksome air to show Don what it was.

Nikki could not see the screen from where she sat, but knew that there was something terrible on it, for the colour in Don's face drained immediately, leaving him an odd off-white pallor.

"You-" Lieve pulled the phone back to his ear, simultaneously smacking Don hard across the face with the heel of his hand, halting his speech.

"Hold the trigger for now. Wait for my order." Lieve spat curtly into the phone, and Don heard the faint 'yes sir' in reply. Tantalisingly close, Lieve crouched down and stared at the tied up agent, who was glaring at him with such intensity that Nikki found it surprising that he didn't just burst into flame. "What's your call, Eppes? Your freedom or your brother?"

"You won't do that. Kill Charlie and you can't cover that one up. There will be one too many questions and while you maybe able to explain this, you won't be able to explain his death." Don spat, and Nikki watched, holding her breath, for Lieve's reply. When it came, it was calm and composed, as if he was asking an everyday question.

"If you do not give me the evidence, I will be forced to disappear. I have a safe route out of state, out of the country, I have escape routes everywhere and even you wouldn't be able to follow me. So if you do not give me the box number and the bank, make no mistake, I will kill you all." Don stared at Lieve, barely able to believe his ears as the older agent stared at the picture on his phone, which Nikki now knew was some sort of current surveillance photograph of Charlie. "What will your father think? He'll be all alone, without his sons, or their mother, or anyone to turn to. He'll die a lonely old man-"

"Shuttup."

"A lonely old man, with no reason to live. I might even put him out of his misery myself." Don was shaking in his seat.

"Shut up." His voice was stronger this time.

"I am a merciful man." That was it. Lieve had hit too close to home, and had leaned too close to Don, both metaphorically and physically. With energy derived from adrenaline and anger, Don threw himself forwards, and smacked his head straight and true into Lieve's face. Howling in pain, Lieve jumped backwards, in a flurry of profanity and hissing. Immediately, he faced the ramifications as Lieve hit him again, this time with a closed fist. Pushing Don sideways so he was lying, cuffed on the floor, Lieve kicked him over and over again, pounding and pounding in his anger and embarrassment of what had just happened.

Nikki found herself screaming for him to stop - strangled threats and sobs and pleads. Lieve paid her no heed, though eventually concluded that he had made his point, as Don lay crumpled and broken on the floor, blood flecked and pooling.

"You've just signed your brother's death warrant." The dirty agent spat, while Don coughed, trying to clear his airways of the blood he had inhaled. Lieve grabbed his cellphone from the floor where it had fallen, and angrily dialled the number again, breathing heavily after his loss of control and smoothing down his hair. "Yeah, it's me. Take your shot." He was about to disconnect, when Don yelled from the carpet, voice breaking with emotion and pain.

"Wait you bastard!" He wheezed, trying to breathe through the blood. "I'll tell you where the damn box is."

"Hold your shot." Lieve warned, and stared at Don, long and hard. "Tell me now."

"Let Charlie go."

"That's no deal. Tell me where the box is and your brother won't die." The edge on Lieve's voice showed that he was not one to be bargained with. This was the deal - take it or leave it. Either way Don was most likely going to die.

* * *

Alan knew the moment that he heard a siren in the night that there was something wrong. It was a sense - one developed as soon as a man has children. A distinct feeling that something was wrong, even though with absolutely nothing to back it up. So he sat up straight in bed and kicked the covers off, rushing through to wake up Charlie and Amita. He didn't care that it was late.

But they weren't there. Alan thought back, and couldnt' remember them even going to bed. So he called their cells. They weren't answering. Alan dressed, shaking at the prospect that another of his sons was in trouble - the whole business with Don was quite enough. Grabbing his keys, he could barely fit them into the lock before jumping straight in his car and driving away, in the direction of CalSci. He didn't even care that he was speeding.

Not knowing how he was going to get in without a lamenated ID for the security guard, Alan turned into the parking lot. But, there was no security guard. Frowning, Alan left the engine running as he went to look in the booth, his curiousity getting the better of him. He immediately wished tht he hadn't.

Turning away from the disgusting sight before him, Alan covered his mouth lest he lose whatever was in his stomach. Having never seen a dead body before, and being thankful for this, he staggered away, breathing deeply. How did Don do this every day? That was a man, with children and a family. A man, just like him, who was only trying to do his job. And had been shot in the face because of it.

Alan drove through the parking lot, faster than perhaps appropriate, and left the car unlocked and parked haphazardly in the disabled access portion, as he ran up the steps to CalSci. Once he thought about it, as he rushed through the empty halls, he did not even know if Charlie and Amita were even here. Sure, they were here a lot, but what if they were at the FBI? Yes, he would go there next.

Pulling out his phone, he found Charlie's contact and dialled again. He could actually hear the phone ringing, a few corridors away in Charlie's office, echoing through the empty school. One ring, two corridors to go, two rings, one to go, three rings...

"Dad?" Alan stopped short in front of the door as Charlie's voice came onto the phone, sounding baffled and tired, but not at all scared. "What's wrong, it's the middle of the night?" Alan did not say anything, merely reached over and pushed the door open, to reveal Charlie and Amita, both sitting at their computers but poised, confused by his entrance. Charlie looked at the phone, at his father, then back at his phone before disconnecting.

"Hey dad, what's wrong?" He asked again, standing up from his computer, clearly noticing the urgency in his father's expression.

"You weren't answering your phone, that's what's wrong!" Alan gasped, his heart beating fast from his running and from his relief. "What are you doing here?" Charlie traded glances at Amita.

"I think that it's better that Don explains this, once it's all over." Alan narrowed his eyes. He had a sinking feeling that something along these lines was going on.

"What have you done?" He asked him, not yet aware of the jailbreak which was now being handled quietly. Neither mathematician answered, but Amita reached over and switched on the news. Don's face was blown up on the screen, next to aerial photographs of the penetentiary, which soon switched to the FBI. The newsreporter mentioned Don's full name, and coninued to describe his escape. "You did this?" Alan asked, not sure whether to be happy, sad or angry. He settled instead on confused. "Where's Donnie?"

"Don's safe with Agents Lieve and Betancourt." Charlie assured him, and his girfriend switched the TV off again. "They're getting the evidence that they need to prove that he didn't kill that woman." Alan blinked, trying to order his thoughts.

"But you're in danger! Both of you - and me!" He gushed, motioning in the vague direction of the parking lot even though they could not possibly see what he was trying to point at. Charlie frowned.

"Don wouldn't hurt us." He reassured Alan, who shook his head, still wheezing for air.

"We need to call the police. The security guard is dead." Amita stood up, clutching her notebook to her chest.

"But we spoke to him not too long ago!" She exclaimed, shocked. "Are you sure?" Alan nodded, not wanting to think back to the sight of the poor man's body, but knowing that his mind would anyway.

"Yes I'm sure. We need to get out of here. Let's go to the FBI." Charlie and Amita nodded, grabbing their laptops and shoving them into their bags while Alan dialled Megan.

"Reeves." They were still on their way to the location.

"Megan, it's Alan. The security guard at CalSci is dead!" By what Alan could hear, Megan was in a car, and he could almost hear her trading glances with another person.

"Right, I don't want you to panic. I'm sending a couple of agents to your location, their names are Rhona Matthews and Christopher Tybe and I trust them very much. You need to trust them too. You have to stay somewhere safe and away from windows with the doors locked. So pull the blinds in Charlie's office and sit in the corner far away from the door." Alan held out a hand to stop Charlie and Amita from packing up their things, and they halted, looking at him for guidance.

"You're not coming?" He asked, helplessly, and Megan whined.

"I can't! I'm already trying to sort out another mess! But I promise, everything is going to be okay. Make sure that Agents Tybe and Matthews show their ID cards when they come in and they will come in with their guns drawn. That's procedure. Don't call or draw attention to yourselves."

"Okay."

"Good luck." Megan disconnected, and immediately phoned another number. Alan stared at his phone, not quite believing what was happening. Taking a deep breath, he walked over to the windows, and began to pull the blinds. Amita caught on, and did so as well, before following Alan to the corner, where he sat beneath the desk. Charlie, who had ran out the room for a few moments, appeared beside them, and they sat together, listening to noises in the night and hearing footsteps in the hall.

* * *

Don guessed that he had no choice. It was his brother - his baby brother, who he had sworn to protect the moment that he became a consultant for the FBI. He needed to protect him now, even if it meant sentencing himself to life in prison; possibly even the death penalty.

"Box number 697, Vale Orion bank. Under the name of Kyle Dennis." Don had given up and in, but the look on Lieve's face told both him and the now hysterical Nikki that he wasn't finished.

"Thank you, Agent Eppes. But you know what would save us both a lot of time?" Lieve asked, still fiddling with his cellphone menacingly. "If you just told me where the evidence was." Nikki frowned, from the bed, though Don seemed to know exactly what Lieve was talking about.

"You asked for the box number."

"That was just to get you attention. I want to go straight to the source of the evidence."

"I see. I get it. The papers in the deposit box won't mean shit if when they get to the location, the witness isn't there." Don chided, mostly for Nikki's benefit. She understood now, or at least she thought that she did. It was eyewitness evidence. The safety deposit box was merely a stepping stone - the address of where someone was being held. A witness, to Lieve. The evidence was a witness.

"Don, Charlie's just a phone call away." Lieve said, casually, raising the phone to his ear. Don visibly gritted his teeth.

"7 Waydhard Drive. There are so many marshalls that you won't get within an inch of the witness." Lieve leaned back, pocketing his phone, much to Don's relief.

"Thank you Agent Eppes, I must admit that this whole affair has been very unpleasant for me. I greatly appreciate your cooperation. Your brother will be left unharmed."

"As soon as you kill the witness, you'll be the one who's blamed." Don yelled, straining against the restraints holding him down. "You won't get off free, and I hope to be the one who's watching when you get pumped full of potassium chloride." Lieve merely smiled at his enthusiasm.

"Oh but my dear Agent Eppes, you will be the one sentenced to the death penalty." He informed him, as calmly as ever. He had regained his composure the moment that Don had told him where to find his only witness, and was not gloating. "Until then, you are at my disposal. Even if you are right, I will kill Agent Betancourt and blame you for her death. If you lied to me, I will come back and find the answers." Although he had a light bounce to his tone, he sounded anything but unthreatening.

"Go to hell Lieve." Don spat at him, and Lieve sighed, turning around and addressing Nikki.

"He's so rude, isn't he?" With one smooth movement, he twisted on the spot and smacked Don over the head with the empty gun, which was lying at the foot of the bed. The bloody agent fell unconscious, and Nikki had to look away.

Lieve at least apologised to her before rendering her unconscious, and carrying her body out to the SUV, covered by the blanket of darkness.

* * *

Megan did not bother to close her SUV door when they parked in front of the bank. Even though it was well past the closing time, they had woken up the manager, and summoned him to the sidewalk in front of his establishment, where he was waiting impatiently with bleary eyes.

"Agents, could this really not wait until morning?" He asked, clearly pissed off by their lack of sensitivity. "The bank opens in under eight hours." Megan paid him no heed, and waited at the door for him to unlock it, staring at him coldly. For a change, Colby was the one who had to be diplomatic.

"I'm sorry Sir, but it is extremely important that we get to that box in the next few minutes. There is information in it which is important to our investigation." The polite urgency of Colby's tone compelled the manager to unlock the back, much more than Megan's impatience did. Colby shot his colleague a warning look on the way in.

It takes a good few minutes to get through security in any bank, and this one was no different. Tapping their feet and holding their tongues as they wanted to ask if the manager could move any faster, the two agents kept tersely quiet at they were led to safety deposit box 697. It took another two minutes to open it.

"There's only one piece of paper, so I don't see how this couldn't wait until morning." The manager huffed, and Megan grabbed the paper out of his hand, hungry for answers. As soon as she found them though, they knocked her on her ass.

"Ingrid Lougherty, 7 Waydhard Drive." She read aloud, and looked up at Colby, ignoring the manager beside her. "Wasn't she in that IA case a couple of weeks back?" Colby nodded, slowly, staring hard at the paper while he thought.

"She was in Internal Affairs, I'd talked to her a couple of times, when she found something in their logs. Next thing anyone knows, someone shot her in her own apartment, along with her boyfriend. They thought that it was someone she knew, because the lock wasn't broken. I thought she died." Admitting this, he looked towards their SUV. "How long do you think it'll take for us to get to number seven Waydhard Drive?"

Pocketing the paper grimly, Megan strode away after him, leaving the bank manager frowning after them.

"I'll call your superiors!" He threatened, but they were already gone.

Once Megan and Colby reached the SUV, Megan's phone rang. It was David.

"Yeah, Reeves."

"Megan, me and Liz didn't find anything at the motel room. They're all gone, but there's blood on the floor."

"How much?" Megan was hoping that one of them just had a nosebleed.

"A lot. I mean not enough for hospitalisation, but more than a prick on the toe." David sounded grim.

"Did you find anything at the bank?"

"Yeah, I found something, and we're going to the location right now. I want you to send full tactical to 7 Waydhard Drive, as well as to alert the US Marshalls that we're coming. Then, I want you to call Tybe and Matthews." Tybe and Matthews were the only two agents who really believed that Don was innocent. They had worked with the team several times, and were trusted by them all.

"Why, what are they doing?" Megan cursed as Colby ran a red light, and turned his sirens on.

"Just do it, David. They'll explain." Megan disconnected, and held on for dear life as Colby drove as fast as the SUV could manage, cornering like a refridgerator on wheels but taking the straights by storm. They only hoped that they would reach the witness in time - they had to be at least twenty minutes behind Lieve and Betancourt.

"I can't believe that Betancourt sold us out." She said, harshly, to Colby, who merely grunted as he turned left, throwing Megan against the widow. "She seemed so real."

"Huh. Don't think about it." Colby said, and his calm was back in place. Even if the sky were falling around Colby's ears, he would still be calm. "People have their reasons, and people bluff. Maybe Betancourt's not as much the attacker as the victim here." Megan sighed, and held on tight as they took another corner.

"Yeah. Maybe."

* * *

Agents Matthew and Tybe had been partners for just over four years and they had seen it all. They had seen demonstrations turned to murder and murder turned to demonstrations. They had seen agents come and go, most of them worthy of trust but nothing special. They had seen agents unworthy of trust, being trusted and arrested, but never before had they seen an untrustworthy agent framing a trustworthy agent of rape and murder. They had never broken a law in their lives, but now they seemed to be breaking every one in the book for an escaped convict, who had every reason to give up on the law and live a life of crime.

Mind you, they had never seen crime solved by math either, until they had worked with Charles Eppes, and that had seemed to work out okay.

They had been to CalSci before, on one of those cases which had worked out okay, so they knew where Charlie's office was. Still, they had to be extra careful on their way, because of Megan's words. They had seen the security guard and called it in, and followed into the building. It was empty, so this was both a blessing and a curse. While they could hear the killer a mile off, it went two ways.

"Cover me." Matthews muttered to her partner, who nodded, and stepped out into Charlie's office's corridor as her partner scuttled across, gun pointing at anything out of the ordinary. Which was at present, nothing. Trying the door to Charlie's office, they were momentarily distracted by padded footsteps, sounding like they came from the next office over. Not knowing whether this was the mathematicians or the security guard killer, the agents glanced at each other, and left Charlie's door to swing shut.

Matthews was creeping down the corridor towards the noise, when Tybe caught her by the arm, and motioned towards the name plate on the door. It depicted that a Professor Johnathon Byrne worked in Charlie's office. The raise of Tybe's eyebrows plainly said: 'How much do you want to bet that Charles Eppes works in the other office?'. Matthews shook her head, and they continued to pad slowly towards the office neighbouring Charlie's. The mathematicians had outwitted the criminals yet again.

Peering through the door, Matthews could make out a figure, prowling around and checking underneath the desks and chairs, and behind all of the blackboards. Nodding to her partner, she kicked open the door, and checked the room, while Tybe pointed his gun straight at the man, who did not have time to raise his gun even if he had wanted to.

"Put it on the floor and place your hands slowly on your head." He said, his voice deep and menacing. "Don't even think about it." After swiftly weighing up his pros and cons, the man decided to obey Tybe's orders and did as he was told. Matthews returned from her sweep of the room, nodding to signal that the coast was clear.

"I'll go check on Charlie if you can handle this." Tybe nodded, and continued to cuff their captive as the other agent hastened next door, doing a preliminary sweep of the room, before calling for the mathematicians. "Professor Eppes? Professor Rumanujan? This is Agent Matthews from the FBI, Agent Reeves sent us. Are you in here?" She called, checking behind the desk to find the three people huddled together, staring up at her with glazed and scared expressions. Shooting them a reassuring smile and holstering her weapon, she offered a hand for Charlie to take hold of. "You scared us there, Professor Eppes."

Tybe appeared at the door, holding their captive by his hands which were cuffed tightly behind his back, and Matthews pulled back the man's head by a rough grip on his hair, so the shaken three could see his face.

"Do you know this man?" Alan immediately shook his head, then looked at the younger pair for verification. They too did not appear to recognise him. "That's okay. We're going to go back to the FBI now, as soon as Agents Sinclair and Warner arrive." She strode over to the window, and glanced out of it. "I'm not a math person, but that should be any second now."

Tybe took her hint and dragged their perpetrator out of the door, more gently than he deserved. Matthews gave Alan, Charlie and Amita a comforting smile.

"Who's idea was it to switch the name plates so he went to the wrong place?" By the confused looks on Alan and Amita's faces, she concluded that it was Charlie. Alan smiled proudly at his son, who looked far too shocked by everything that had happened to actually reply.

"That's what you were doing after Megan called." Amita said, remembering how he had been gone for the best part of a minute before he had joined them underneath the desk. "That was really smart, Charlie!" Charlie shrugged, eyes still wide as saucers.

"I am a boy genius." He offered, and his father laughed, relieved more than amused, slapping his son on the back. Concluding that this was enough time to let Sinclair and Warner arrive, Matthews took Amita by the arm, and they led the way out of Charlie's office, and down the hallway. They met David and Liz in the parking lot before driving off to the FBI.

They needed to talk to the Assistant Directors.

* * *

_In the next chapter, David and Liz start to make their case, and I promise I'll get more of their reactions in, because they haven't been in the main focus for most of the story. _

_-Seven_


	7. David's Justice

**Chapter Seven - David's Justice **

Number 7 Waydhard Drive looked like any other suburban street at two in the morning. Closed, private and ordinary. Until, that is, Megan and Colby pulled onto the street, sirens blaring. They hoped that the lack of fuss meant that Lieve had not arrived before them, but they took notice of a dark sedan, parked awkwardly on the curb. As if whoever had parked it was only walking in for a minute.

"You go wait at the back, I'll knock down the door." Megan ordered quickly, and Colby parted with her as she ran up the driveway. Taking what felt like those running leaps in cartoons, Megan kicked open the door, which was already open. Worst case scenario was that there were two well trained agents inside the house - Lieve and Betancourt.

As soon as he heard the crash in the otherwise rather empty night, Colby kicked in the back door as well, barging into the darkness of the house and clearing the room within seconds. Hearing Megan's footsteps, he was able to gauge her position and avoid creeping up behind her, which was a plus in a dark house. Friendly fire was the last thing that they needed right now.

They met on the stairs, coming face to face with each other's guns, and quickly recovering. They had to move fast, if they wanted to save Ingrid Lougherty: Lieve and Betancourt were bound to have heard both their approach and their entrance.

Creeping up the stairs as fast as they could, they covered each other in the dark, and Colby thanked the good lord that he'd always eaten his carrots. Megan cleared the bathroom, and the spare bedroom, as he did with the other and the study, while they met back outside the master bedroom, at the end of the hall. With a nod and a deep breath, Colby kicked in the door and jumped inside, immediately focusing on the two figures standing in plain view from the moonlight throught the window. Megan followed in, her gun also trained on Lieve, who stood over the woman cowering on the floor.

"Reeves." Lieve hissed, and although he was outgunned, he did not take his gun from Ingrid Lougherty's head where it rested. She was wailing silently - her nightmares had once more come a reality. The man she had been hiding from for almost a month now was above her, ready to dispose of the only evidence between him and freedom. Well, not anymore.

"You're finished, Agent Lieve." Megan spat, venomously. "Even if Ingrid's not in shape to testify against you, we will. Our case just got real. There's no way in hell that you're getting out of this."

"Your case has nothing. You're a biased team, trying to keep your friend from life in prison." Lieve bluffed, but he knew, more than well, that he was fucked. Reeves was right. There was no way that he would getting out of this, not without a sentence anyway.

"Don't try to bluff your way out of this, Lieve." Colby watched on nervously as Megan neared the dirty agent, lip curled in unequivocal distaste. "If you surrender and tell us where Don is, then you might just get life without parole." They both knew the alternative, and Lieve was not even going to consider that. Lieve was the type of man who would make a deal, then walk back on it several times, but at the same time, he knew that his options were limited. There was nothing that he could do now to make things better but cooperate. So he began to lower his gun.

A shot rang out, and Lieve was propelled backwards, onto Ingrid Lougherty's bedspread, blossoming red onto the clean crisp white. Shocked and horrified at the sudden occurrence, Megan turned accusingly at Colby, merely to see that he too had turned to see who had taken the shot.

A US Marshal stood in the doorway, gun shaking almost as much as his legs. Rushing forwards, Megan felt for a pulse, but found nothing. While the Marshal looked young, and inexperienced, he had one hell of a shot. Colby shook his head, holding his head in one hand as the gun in his hand fell by his side.

"Why the hell did you do that?" Megan shouted at the young Marshal, but Colby positioned himself between them.

"Megan, he didn't know." Glancing over his shoulder, he rolled his eyes at the younger men. "We're the feds en route." Colby pulled out his badge, and practically threw it at the young man, who was starting to understand exactly what he had done.

"Oh God." The Marshal muttered. "I just thought... no one's supposed to know that she's here, except for the... and now he's on the news, and I'm so sorry." Colby sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose again. He knew that it was not the man's fault. Hell, if he was as inexperienced as the Marshal was, he would have shot Lieve too.

The Marshal crept over to where Ingrid lay on the floor, and crouched down beside her sobbing form, trying to make sure that she was okay. Megan strode towards him, her anger blazing in her eyes, so much so that Colby had to stand in her way. Unsurprisingly, when she ran into him, it was not unlike running into a brick wall, and she collapsed, letting her anger soak through her and into him, where it meant nothing.

"Shh. Megan, we'll find Don. He's probably nearby; otherwise he wouldn't have had time."

"He could... he could already be dead." Megan let her body sag against his, with only his strong arms to hold her upright.

"Don't speak like that, Meg. Just don't. We'll send the Marshal and Loughney back to the FBI and they'll talk to the DA. We'll canvas the area." He kissed her hairline, and she gripped his t-shirt for comfort and resolve, breathing heavily. The Marshal heard Colby, and nodded, before guiding Ingrid out the door, towards his car. "You'd better be careful. A lot is lying on her being able to talk to the FBI. Go to the desk and ask for Agents Sinclair and Warner. They'll sort everything out, just tell them exactly what happened." The Marshal nodded, and took Ingrid out by the arm, who was still sobbing uncontrollably.

Colby looked down at his colleague, but could not read any of her emotion from her hairline. Instead, he rested his head down against hers, closing his eyes and hoping for the best.

"We should go, shouldn't we?" Megan asked, her breathing now regualted. "Start the search." Colby nodded, and they both sighed, worried about what else the day would bring. And if they were going to get their friend back safe and sound.

"I'll call Matthews and Tybe, see what they have, and if it's of any use. Tell them about everything." Colby said, and Megan pulled herself away, shaky but still able to stand by herself.

"Yeah. I'll call local pd and get them to all join in the search. Tell them that Nikki used to be a cop. That'll make them drive faster." Letting his hand linger for a moment on her back, Colby sighed one more time and pulled out his phone. He hadn't slept in God knows how long and he didn't want to have to deal with this.

* * *

The blackness lifted to darkness, where shadows were visible within shadows. Nikki's head hurt, her back hurt, her damn near everything hurt, and what made matters worse, she could not move. Her hands were bound, behind her back, and she was connected with something warm...

The figure behind her began to squirm, clearly woken by her own movement, and groaned, swearing profusely.

"Don?" She asked, unsure that it was him yet knowing that it could not possibly be anyone else.

"No, it's the fucking Easter Bunny." Came the hissed reply. In other words, yes. It was definitely Don. "What the hell's going on? Why is it dark? And why can't I move my own arms?" Nikki felt him try, and had to cry out to stop him twisting her arms to the breaking point - quite literally.

"Watch it, Eppes!"

"Sorry, I was just trying to get rid of these... are these standard issue?" He asked, becoming distracted by his restraints. Nikki, more occupied with trying to find their location, missed his point.

"Pardon?"

"The cuffs. Are these standard FBI issue handcuffs?" He felt her shrug, and continue to crane her neck, trying to see out of the window.

"I suppose they will be, if they were Lieve's." She said, then lapsed into silence. "I can't believe that he did this to me." Don ceased in his struggling, to listen to her. Her body had gone limp, and he felt bad that this had all come to light. Although it was much better to be hurt than to never know, it always felt worse when trust was broken. Fumbling in the darkness, he found her hand and held it gently, carefully in case it was hurt.

"No one could have seen it coming. But you did the right thing." He assured her, though she didn't feel reassured. "He was off the rails, even before he met you. There was nothing that you could have done." Sighing, Nikki leant her head sideways against the musty floor. It smelt like...

"We're in a car." She cried, suddenly, and the shrillness of her voice shocked him.

"Ow! I have a headache you know." She paid him no heed, and continued.

"We must be in his SUV."

"We're not moving." Don muttered, unnecessarily. "We need to get out of these handcuffs so we can see out the windows."

"I have the wills Captain, but not the means. I left my magic wand in my other pants." Nikki shot back, sardonically.

"Yeah but- did you just quote Star Trek?"

"Not my point." She muttered, embarrassed. "My point is: how are we supposed to do that?" Both agents struggled for a while, until they were sitting back to back, against the back of the rear end seat of the SUV. "Do you have a key?"

"Yeah, we're just sitting here for fun." His sarcasm was noted, and Nikki rolled her eyes in the darkness. "No, I mean if you have something sharp and small, I can pick the lock." Nikki sighed in frustration, trying to blow her hair out of her face. There was still nothing to be seen through the windows - clearly there were no lampposts outside.

"I think that I might have a hair clip in my hair, but Lieve might have removed it." She sighed, in resignation. "Wait a minute, I have to stretch before you can get at it." Wondering how the hell he would be able to reach her head even when she was fully stretched, Don kept still and bore with her as she struggled, straining against the bonds holding them together. "Okay, roll onto your front."

"Jeez Nikki, you really do have a weird way of doing things." Don muttered, but did as she was told. In this situation, there really was nothing to lose.

"Right... can you reach my head?" With a start, Don realised that he could, his hands stretched as far up his back as he could in the position he was in. The floor was constricting his breathing and it was less than comfortable.

"Yeah, I can." He searched around for anything sharp, deciding not to comment on the fact that she shouldn't be able to physically do that. Maybe she wore heels to work and he underestimated her height. "Got it." He extracted the clip, pulling her hair and making her yelp.

"Watch it Eppes!" She found herself hissing, for the second time that night.

"Yeah, yeah." They righted themselves, to their relief, and Don felt Nikki go limp. The twisting and impressive contortionism had used up what little energy she had. "Getting there..." There were little clicks for a moment or two, as he broke the clip in two and used it to play around with the lock. Even though it would have taken a considerably smaller amount of time had he been able to see what he was doing, he got to where he needed to go eventually. "Got it."

After his cuffs were open, he was able to roll over and unlock hers.

* * *

"Assistant Director Wright, I realise that it's very late, and I can only apologise enough, but this is a matter of great importance to both us and the Bureau." Liz left David to do the talking. David was good at the politics. AD Wright frowned at them through his glasses, and sighed. He was just about to leave the office, exhausted in the wake of the Eppes business, and grab a few hours of sleep before he was called upon in the morning to host several press conferences.

"This had better be good, Agent Sinclair." He boomed, with his greatly deep voice. "If you're wasting my time, I will be forced to relieve you of your duty." David would have smiled if he had thought that Wright was joking, but he knew better than to provoke a tired man.

They had talked to ex-Agent Ingrid Lougherty and the cash hired gun who Matthews and Tybe had found in CalSci. They had the whole story, and things were beginning to piece themselves together.

"Sir, this is very good." He nodded to Liz, who put forwards the file she had been compiling on Lieve. "Internal Affairs Agent Auguste Lieve was involved in the Ingrid Lougherty case, four weeks ago. She was his partner, and she was investigating an agent in their department."

Wright narrowed his eyes, illustrating that there had better be a clear point in his immediate future, yet David decided to take things slow. Things could get out of hand if even one small detail was missed. "However, they didn't have any evidence, so she had to look deeper. She found a paper trail which lead away from the suspect, and she took another look at the case. But, when she did take a closer look at the case, she obviously involved her partner, and had to keep everything on the down low, so that none of the men in her department knew that she was onto them, since she didn't know who the 18th Street Mexicali mole actually was, she only knew that he was in their department. So, she and Agent Lieve kept looking. Agent Lougherty says that she found a file, which implied another agent in their department, and she sent it to her partner. However, she realised later on that the file also implicated her partner."

Wright was no longer looking angry at being kept awake; he seemed to be listening intentely.

"So, Lieve came to her apartment and shot her boyfriend, and her, and left them to die." Liz continued from where her colleague had left off. "Only one of her neighbours called 911 and there was an ambulance nearby. By some miracle, she survived, but Agent Don Eppes, who lived in her building, decided to put her into witness protection. She would not say a word about the case, but he pressed it - following every lead that she did. He had followed her investigation to the evidence which lead her to Lieve in the first place, but Agent Eppes didn't suspect him, because of their partnership, and there was no reason to suspect him."

"Agents, this all sounds very convoluted and circumstantial." Wright warned them, but David shook his head.

"Don't worry Assistant Director. We have witnesses, even more if we can find Agent Eppes and Betancourt." Wright sat forwards.

"There are Agents missing?" He asked, eyebrows raised in worry. "Why didn't you tell me that to start with?"

"Bear with me." David said, and the authority in his voice made even Wright shut up. While some may have interpreted David's tone of voice as insolent, Wright saw his pushing as initiative and he respected that.

"Continue."

"Agent Lieve orchestrated the case against Agent Eppes, because he found out that he was heading up the investigation."

"How did he do that?"

"People talk, Assistant Director. I'd also like to think that a closed investigation is... closed, but the fact remains that people talk, and they always will." David shrugged. "There isn't much that we can do about it."

"I see." Wright's voice was tight and stretched thin. This late night conversation was doing more than just making him grumpy, it was really starting to worry him. Was it really this easy to frame an agent for murder? Or escape from jail, for that matter? "Go on."

"Agent Lieve's new partner, Agent Betancourt, was part of the investigation into Agent Eppes. She began to become suspicious of Lieve's push to put Eppes behind bars, and thought that she'd follow up some other lines of investigation, which are detailed in the file. Needless to say, she found that she believed Agent Eppes when he insisted that he hadn't done anything wrong."

"So she broke him out of jail." Wright sounded unconvinced, but David kept his cool.

"She made a deal with Eppes; he would give her the information if she ensured that he wouldn't go to prison. And since he didn't completely trust her yet, he wanted to be there when she found the evidence."

"And the whole felony thing, she wasn't at all worried about that?" Wright asked, with a touch of sarcasm hinting in his tone.

"Sir, if I may, she was just doing what she felt was right. Things turned out in their favour." Liz cut in from the side, making the AD raise his eyebrows.

"How, exactly? They're missing and as far as you've told me, you don't have a clue where they could be. I don't know about you, but that doesn't sound like it's in their favour to me." Wright snapped, becoming impatient with this woman. While he thought it admirable that she stood up for her friends, she had to respect the chain of command. When she was in his office, anyway.

"They've proven a good man's innocence. That sounds like success to me." Liz snapped back, defiantly, and David shot her a warning look. He was supposed to be handling this.

"Sir, what she means to say is that they've made a case. I took the liberty of showing the file to a couple of trusted prosecutors, who seem to think that the case stands alone, whatever defense used. But Lieve's dead now." Rubbing his temples, AD Wright hissed tiredly at his desk.

"So what, Agent Sinclair, do you want me to do? You seem to have a case, you don't need me to file and offer it to the DA office."

"No Sir, but I do need you to call a press conference and announce that Don Eppes is no longer a felon, and that he is merely a missing FBI Agent." Wright actually stood up indignantly.

"Agent Sinclair, as far as I know, Eppes is a felon! He may be innocent of the Jenkins murder, but he escaped from a penitentiary. I may be a little old-fashioned, but I'm still pretty sure that escaping from jail is against the law." He ranted, his voice rising. "You are a well known Agent futher up the food chain and you will do well some day. Don't risk your promising career on saving your boss from a mess he got himself into. When we find him, we will treat him as what he really is. A criminal with good intentions." While Liz just managed to keep her cool, David lost it completely.

Standing up so forcefully that his chair fell over behind him, the by-the-book agent balled his fists as he yelled at his superior with absolutely no worry about the consequences.

"Don Eppes is by far the best damn agent I have ever worked with. He has taught me more about this job, and how to deal with it than any teacher I ever had, and I would be happy to become half of the agent which he is today." Wright's eyebrows would have encroached his hairline, had he one. "How _dare _you call him a criminal."

"Agent Sinclair-"

"No! Listen to me!" Even Liz was shrinking back, having never seen her colleague like this before. "Don is not just my mentor, he's my friend. And if I was in his position, I would have never made the choices that he's had to make today. You say that you follow the justice system, but justice would be giving him a medal, not a jail sentence." Wright stared, open-mouthed, at the younger agent as he seethed, large chest rising and falling rapidly. "And if you use the so called justice system to sentence him to jail, I can't honestly say that it's the system that I used to believe in."

"Agent Sinclair-"

"Good day Sir." David spat. "I'm sorry I disturbed you." Striding past his female colleague, he slammed the door on the way out, so forcefully that Liz swore she heard a splintering noise. Wright watched him go, affronted at the sudden outburst and surprised at the passion with which David had shouted.

"Agent Warner-" Liz too stood, throwing a slightly more submissive yet even more malevolent glance, before following her colleague into the corridor, leaving Wright to order his thoughts. After a few moments, he sighed and reached towards the file which they had left on his desk. He guessed that he wasn't going to get any sleep after all.

* * *

_Review to give me feedback... otherwise how will I know if you liked it or not? _

_-Seven x x_


	8. Infrared

**Chapter Eight - Infra-red**

The dawn started to seep through the tinted window of the SUV, illuminating Don's tired face, and it was only then that Nikki realised the extent of what Lieve had done to him. The dark bruises on his face were accompanied with copious amounts of dried blood, and he allowed her to look at the even darker bruises on this chest and stomach where Lieve had kicked him for his defiance. Not wanting to worry him, Nikki didn't voice her own worry about the possibility of his ribs being broken.

"Are you seeing this?" He motioned towards the mechanism near the latch of the car boot, which was far too menacing for Nikki to think about. When she didn't reply, he merely made an answer up for himself. "We're rigged, for the second that someone opens that boot."

"But why?" Nikki's curiousity asked, as she inspected the various cuts across his forehead.

"I guess that - ow! - I guess that Lieve wanted to make sure that if you were lying, we would be alive to tell him the truth." Don said, wryly, causing Nikki to grimace.

"And if you were telling the truth?" She asked, fearing the answer.

"Let's just say that anyone trying to rescue us is under the impression that they are doing so. They won't know about the bomb from the outside." Sighing, Nikki leaned against the back of the rear end seat, watching out the window for something. A sign. A person, to shout and scream at. Mind you, if someone did come along, they would have to make the decision whether to starve to death or to be blown to bits, taking some poor innocent bystander along with them. Disgusted by the thought, Nikki closed her eyes and leant her head back.

Noticing her silence, and slowly dragging himself up to sit by her, Don snaked his arm around her waist, heaving a sigh as his movement caused him pain.

"You know, I really wish I could have known you better." He said softly in her ear, resting his cheek on her head, a little above her ear. Realising that he was saying goodbye, she relaxed by his side.

"Here's your chance." She offered, turning her head to look up at him. "This ain't exactly a restaurant, but these really aren't the best of situations to meet in anyway." The raising of the eyebrows replied. "Come on. Ask me about what team I support." She shrugged, glancing up out of the window again and sighing. "We have the time."

"I have one question."

"Shoot."

"Was I right?" She cracked open an eye to look at him in confusion.

"Right about what?" Don was smiling slightly, and their situation didn't seem so dire in that moment.

"Are you a red lace kind of girl?" He asked, playfully.

"Oh, Agent Eppes," She drawled, grinning, her eyes closed once again. "There are some things which a man must find out for himself."

* * *

Never before had Charlie made a guess. He had made estimations, which had a ninety-five and higher percentage probability of success, but he had never actually _guessed_. Now though, this wasn't about saving anyone else's loved one. This was about saving his.

"Give me the parameters again." He stammered, and Amita sighed, her exhaustion showing on her face.

"Within that radius. There needs to be an area which has a higher probability of Don and Agent Betancourt being there. Most likely low police presence, with parking spots which can be kept for days without anyone noticing. Come on Charlie, I can't do this by myself!" She snapped, trying to pin her hair up again from where it was falling across her face.

"I don't expect you to." Charlie grumbled back, bad-temperedly. He hated when people rushed. If they wanted someone to make guesses, they would have hired a psychologist, instead of a mathematician. "Tell me them again." Amita slapped her notebook down on the table, glaring at her boyfriend.

"I've told you them a million times!"

"Three, Amita."

"Three isn't enough?" She snapped, trying to stare at her paper, but so tired that her brain was working at halfspeed. Charlie wasn't being objective, and even though she knew that he couldn't be, this was what they needed at the moment. They needed answers, so they could get Don back. "Low police presence, high civilian presence. Long parking permits, so that rules out suburban streets and parking garages." Amita rubbed her temples.

Charlie bent over to the map and began to draw extensively with his brightly coloured marker pens.

"These areas," He began, drawing as he spoke, and his movements were so violent that he seemed almost out of breath when he did so. "Are of the highest probability. We need satellite surveillance in these areas." Straightening up, he hurried out of the room trailing the enormous map, and leaving Amita in the room to work peacefully, trying to narrow down the areeas which he had flagged.

David and Liz were the ones handling the search. They were coordinating the FBI workforce, the LAPD and controlling the outlets to the media, though that was really the choice of the AD, who hadn't sent any information their way after the incident in his office. On the other hand, he hadn't fired them yet either, but that could just be because he wanted them to clean up the mess they had made before leaving.

"David, I have the areas. Do you have the satellite?" Charlie's face fell as soon as he saw David's grim expression. "You couldn't get the satellite."

"Charlie, it's on a three day cycle and NSA won't let us in because from word of the AD, apparently Don's a criminal with good intentions." David said, between phone calls, as he was jotting down names and handing them to the agents running around the office, answering phones double time and shouting down them at their incompetant other halves. The stress was felt in the air.

"Don's not a criminal!" Charlie insisted, and even the oh so patient David snapped.

"I know that Don's not a criminal, Charlie, and I want to get him back as much as you do, but there is nothing that I can do. I will keep trying, but - Charlie? Charlie?" David would have followed the young Eppes back into the war room, but his phone had rang again, and it was more search coordination. Once more, he found himself yelling down the phone to be heard on the other side of the line.

"Yes I know that - What, Liz?" Liz thumped him on the shoulder again, and David turned around, just as everyone started to go quiet, all crowding around a computer screen. Liz brought one up on their own desktop, and they peered at it with interest.

AD Wright was standing in front of dozens of micorphones, looking grim and severe, though still exuding power and respectability. Despite David's annoyance with the man, he had to admit that he was a better agent than most of the other AD s in history, and a better politician than perhaps them all.

"Ladies and Gentleman, I'm sure that you have all become aware that there is a fugitive on the loose by the name of Don Eppes, who escaped from Greenfield Penitentiary yesterday evening. I must reiterate that this man must be found, and the FBI, along with the much appreciated help of the LA Police Department, has dedicated all available resources to finding him."

David turned away from the computer, disgusted. Liz, however, continued to watch, sensing that there was more to come.

"However, it has come to our attention that the crimes which Agent Eppes was first accused of were false, and although this does not excuse his actions, he is not considered dangerous. But, if anyone sees Agent Eppes or the woman he is with, Agent Nicole Betancourt," Don and Nikki's faces took up half of the screen. "It is imperative that the call the number at the bottom of the screen. Ladies and Gentlemen, your cooperation is greatly appreciated." Wright nodded to the crowd, his head held high through the sea of noise. "There will be no questions at this moment in time."

Liz tapped a few keys on the keyboard, and the screen minimised. A cheer rose from the agents gathered around the other screens, Agent Tybe leading them, grinning widely. Liz gave him an air high-five, and everyone returned to their business, though decidedly more cheerful than before.

David's eyebrows were still raised when Liz elbowed him, looking for input.

"Hey, Sinclair." She used his last name in an attempt to gather his attention. "Looks like someone's not as much the villan as you think they were." David smiled slightly, though he was still confused. "I guess something you said in there really made him think twice about everything that's happened."

"He said that Don's innocent, not that he's going to let him get off free." David corrected, but Liz snorted loudly.

"Don shouldn't get off free. That's just stupid. I just think that it should be taken into account everything that he's done today in search of justice." Liz returned to her desk, after patting David comfortingly on his shoulder. He merely stared at the computer screen some more, even though Wright's face was long gone. Not knowing what to think, he merely banished every moral dilemma to the back of his mind and answered the ever ringing phone.

* * *

When Charlie rushed back into the room, Amita was standing by the larger map tacked to the notice board, pencil hovering above a certain area. He pulled her to the table and although she objected at first, the desperation in his face made her think twice and forget her crankiness, and listen to him.

"Amita, I need you to help me do something." Charlie urged, and Amita watched him, nervously.

"What?"

"David can't get the satellites from the NSA." He admitted, and Amita narrowed her eyes, understanding him almost immediately.

"No, Charlie. I've already helped you hack Greenfield Penitentiary. This is a step too far. I mean, it's the NSA! I don't even know if I _can_-"

"Amita, we need satellites so we can find Don in time. The search we have going can take days, and we might not even find them then. Plus, Don lost quite a lot of blood. If he doesn't get medical attention in the next day or two, he might... it's not good." The pleading and whining edge of Charlie's voice broke her heart - he was not the light-hearted eccentric genius that she had fallen in love with. "Please help me."

"Yes honey, of course I'll help you." She kissed his forehead. "I'll do anything for you, Charlie. You should know that." Smiling slightly, he let her hold him for a fraction of a second longer, before she pulled away, and grabbed her laptop. "So are we going to find that SUV or not?" Charlie grinned, and sat down heavily in the seat across from her, rubbing his hands together.

"Let's do it."

* * *

David was pulled away from the phone by a polite tap on the shoulder. He held it to his shoulder, and looked up, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah- oh." AD Wright raised his eyebrows back at David, who immediately muttered into the phone. "Just keep looking in that sector. You know the plate? Good. I'll call you back." He disconnected, and stood up, as though if he was sitting down he felt like he wasn't showing the right amount of respect. "Sir."

Wright nodded, and took a deep breath, before David realised that he was waiting for him to say something.

"Sir, I really respect what you did today." David admitted, and he wasn't ashamed to do so. Ever since he was a kid, David had always been very honest, even if it reflected badly on himself. Wright appeared to appreciate this honesty, and the hint of a smile climbed its way onto his face.

"The same to you, Agent Sinclair. I haven't been spoken to like that since I refused Hansen his promotion." David raised an eyebrow even further.

"AD Hansen?" Wright's smile grew ever so slightly larger as he remembered his fellow younger Assistant Director.

"You'll make a good leader one day." He rephrased, and the look in his eyes was not one of hostility - as far as David could tell, Wright's words were completely sincere.

"Thank you Sir." David nodded, and Wright sighed.

"Just don't tell anyone else about this." He glanced around the office warily, at the people watching him. "The last thing I need is people thinking I'm a pushover." David grinned, and nodded.

"I know the meaning of secrecy, Assistant Director." Though surprised, the younger agent took the hand that was offered to him.

"I'll do what I can to assure that Agent Eppes gets the fair trial that he deserves." Wright assured him, before stepping back and walking away, back towards the elevator. David watched him go, smiling slightly. Maybe Wright wasn't such a politiking bastard after all.

* * *

"Colby, we've been driving in circles for hours. Any word from David?" Megan complained, scanning the street with her binoculars and crooking her eyebrow at him. He merely shook his head, glancing in his rearview mirror as they turned the corner. Another patrol car passed in the opposite direction, and he nodded to the driver.

Even with the binoculars, Megan knew that the chance of her actually seeing something was oh so very slim. For all they knew, Lieve had parked them in an underground facility, where they would never be found. Or buried them in some sort of landfill. And this was all branching from the assumption that they were in fact in the car.

"Are we sure that they're definitely in the SUV that Lieve left the motel in?" She asked, nervously. "I know that there was a bloodtrail leading up to it, but there is a chance that maybe we're missing some small detail which might tell us that they're really being kept in a building near where Lieve was killed." Colby shook his head immediately, and his stubborness annoyed Megan. "Why not? How do you know?"

"I know because Lieve wasn't stupid. Yeah, he was a sick bastard, but he wasn't a dumb one. If you get any piece of information, you keep the source in a place where it can be referred back to easily, and moved easily. It just makes sense that he kept them in the SUV, because otherwise there might have been more witnesses when he was taking them out of the car." His voice was completely calm, and Megan was unsure whether she found it frustrating or reassuring.

"Spy 101, huh?" She asked, slumping against the window and staring out, eyes squinted against the morning sun. Colby smiled faintly.

"Yeah. Something like that."

"I just... I just feel like there was something that I could have done." Megan sighed, rubbing her nose in exhaustion. Neither agent had slept. "Between Don's investigation, his arrest, his break out, leaving him with Lieve even though we didn't trust him-"

"First of all, you trusted Nikki. And that's not a bad thing. She was clean, and she was just trying to do what was right. Which meant that you did the right thing breaking him out of prison, if only to clean his name. Also, you can't blame yourself for not knowing that Don was conducting an Internal Review. Hell, I didn't tell anyone for two years. You may be a profiler, Meg, but you're not a mind reader. There are things that he's bound to keep from us, for varying reasons, and sometimes we just need to trust him to have really good reasons." Colby's expression did not change, the whole time that he spoke.

"How can you do that?" She asked, and brief confusion marred his features, but he did not take his eyes from the road, for obvious reasons.

"Do what?"

"How do you just talk about it like you don't care? I mean, this is Don that we're talking about. He lied to us." Colby smirked, though it was humorless.

"I know what it's like to keep a secret. And I know that sometimes, it's best to keep the people you care about far away from it. In case they get hurt."

"We can handle ourselves though-"

"You don't understand, Megan. It doesn't work like that. When you're so paranoid that you keep an address locked away in a safety deposit box, you're not going to let your partner, a woman that you see equivalent to your own sister, go messing about in anywhere that could get her hurt. It might be irrational because you can take care of yourself, but people aren't rational. We're stupid, irrational and unecessarily heroic. But that's just the way it works. I can't change it, you can't change it, and I don't think the bloody president could change it if he tried. It's human nature to keep your own, and that's what Don was doing." Colby shook his head, staring at the road with an angry determination. "And I can't blame him for doing so."

Megan watched him for a moment, before turning her gaze back out through the window, holding the binolulars up and forcing herself to concentrate. But even after the echoes of his words had left the car, she could not banish them from her head, try as she might, because he was right. Don was just keeping his own.

* * *

"Charlie, do you have the-"

"Yup, rerouting the signal." Both mathematicians were typing away furiously when Liz entered, bringing them and herself coffee. She was taking a five minute break to ingest copious amounts of caffeine before her brain mulched completely.

"Hey guys-" She stopped short as she was shushed violently, and edged towards them to put the coffee next to their workspaces. Not knowing what was going on, she thought that she'd watch them while she drank her coffee. Their determination and their bravery impressed her, more so somtimes than Colby's strength, David's patience and Don's loyalty. To do what they were, at the speed at which they were, in the time where they were, was staggering. What she found even more impressive was that they were doing it without a drip of caffeine.

"I have it!" Amita exclaimed suddenly, making Liz jump and curse quietly as she nearly spilt her coffee.

"Got what?" She asked, confused. "You've found Don?" Amita shook her head, and Liz hit herself mentally for such optimism. "Then what do you have?" Amita looked shifty, and looked like she was conjuring up a lie, while Charlie, as usual, missed the subtlety of the situation and told the god honest truth.

"We have satellite." He informed her, typing away. "Zoning in on the areas of highest probability."

"We only have time for one sweep, but we have to download the data. Then at least we'll be able to see the SUVs in the area." Amita said, swiftly, typing away. Liz leaned forwards, wincing as she spoke.

"I'm going to ignore the fact that I think you're doing something illegal and tell you that every FBI vehicle has an Infra-red code on the roof, so they can be tracked by satellite. If you go Infra-"

"Done." Amita muttered, and Liz sighed, wondering why she ever even bothered to finish her sentences around them. "We have the areas in Infra-red, and the NSA only had a glitch in their systems." Amita continued to make sure they could not be tracked down, shut down and arrested, while Charlie set his algorithm.

"What's the IR code on Lieve's vehicle?"

"Um..." Liz grabbed the file which she had dropped on the table near the doorway, and flicked through it for a moment. "LA192b." She informed them, and Charlie typed it into his search algorithm. "Find anything?"

"You need to give it a while, but the results should be within fifteen minutes." Charlie gushed. "We might get there in time!" Liz had to grin back - he was just so happy that she didn't want to be the one to tell him that it could already be too late. Hell, she didn't want to admit to herself that they might be too late.

Rushing out onto the floor, she signalled David.

"We have a possibility here, results in just under-"

"Liz!" She turned back into the room, where Charlie was standing.

"It's found something already?" She asked, disbelievingly, and Charlie shrugged.

"It searched areas of highest probability first, and it got a hit on the corner of 18th and Stark." Liz traded looks with David. That made sense - it was Mexicali territory, which Lieve would know all about, being the mole for their 'organisation'. "So what are you waiting for! Call it in!" Charlie waved his arms, and David grabbed his cellphone.

"This is Agent Sinclair. Send message out on radio that the SUV is on the corner of 18th and Stark. Repeat, the corner of 18th and Stark. Send all units in the area." He disconnected, and grabbed his coat. "Liz, I'm going to the location if you want to come. Matthews, Tybe, could you keep the ends met here?" He called to the two agents nearby, who nodded, though looked pained at the burden of so many ringing phones.

Liz ditched her coffee into a nearby bin, not caring that it was almost full, and grabbed her gun, badge and coat from her workstation on the way past. They had made it to the elevator, and the doors were nearly closing when a hand stuck through the sliding doors, obstructing them. Charlie slipped into the elevator and stood between the two agents, who traded glances. Both knew the consequences of Charlie's presence at what could potentially be a crime scene. But neither could deny him the right to see his brother again, even if it might be for the last time.

* * *

Nikki sat up straighter, having dozed off on Don's shoulder, waking to the sound of sirens. Within seconds, Don was too awake, and the impending sense of doom alerting them both.

"Do I want them to be for us?" Nikki asked, glancing down at the mechanism involved around the door latch, then back at the other agent. Don did not answer, instead he swallowed hard, also staring at the mechanism. The windows were so tinted that their rescuers could not possibly see the bomb until it was far, far too late.

"I don't know, Nikki, just hang tight." He looked at the ceiling, and Nikki wondered briefly if he was praying to a God he believed in, or if he was just wishing for his survival. But, all they could really do was to wait.

* * *

The only reason that Colby and Megan were the first on the scene was that Colby appeared to go colourblind at all the traffic lights. Before their own SUV had stopped moving, Megan opened her door and leapt out, not caring at all that she had left her gun and badge in the car.

Colby stopped the truck and jumped out after her, also running to the SUV, shouting her name. The sirens of following LAPD Units vibrated Megan's eardrums and everything suddenly sounded blurred and broken, like the sound of machine guns heard through water.

She knocked on the back, and on the drivers windows, trying to look in.

"Don? Don!" She yelped, trying to get her partner's attention, and hoping to God that he could at least hear her. "Nikki? Can you hear me?" Behind the sirens, the shouting and the chaos, she heard no reply. The front doors were locked, so she moved to the back of the SUV, reaching down just as Colby arrived by her side, and pulled the latch.

It clicked, and the trunk flew open.


	9. Game Over

**Chapter Nine - Game Over**

"Don? Don!" Don and Nikki traded glances.

"Don't open the trunk!" Don yelled, then Nikki the same thing at a slightly higher pitch. Megan's yelling continued regardless. They were clearly being drowned out by all of the sirens circling the SUV.

"Nikki? Can you hear me?"

"Don't open the-" Don cursed and pushed his tired, almost non-responsive body forwards, upon seeing two figures out the windscreen that he knew only too well. If he had to die, he wasn't bringing anyone with him. He had moved in the hope of holding the latch of the trunk door closed, but his tired, blood-caked hands slipped and thumped down on the mechanism which was twisted upon the opening of the door.

Megan and Colby stared, open-mouthed, not entirely understanding the situation immediately. Don himself did not understand - why were they still alive? Was the bomb even real? He began to pull himself back into a sitting position, but Colby yelled at him, responding first.

"Don't move, Don!" Thanking the heavens for his boss' fast reactions, he pointed at where Don's hand remained, caught in the mechanism of the bomb. "Just stay where you are, the bomb squad will be here in a few minutes." Realisation dawned, and Don looked back at Nikki, almost apologetically. She stared back, shaking from exhaustion, fear and adrenaline.

"Oops." He said, thinking deeply about what was going to happen if he moved his hand, even in the slightest.

"I've seen these before," Colby interjected, as Megan waved away local pd, and ordered them to call the bomb squad. "There's no timer because only bombs in movies have little red blinking timers. What you need to look for before running like hell is the liquid in this part of the device turning red. Then you have... I don't know how long, but it isn't long, to get the hell outta there." In all of the years Don had known Colby, he had never seen him so calm. It occured to him briefly that perhaps he had been getting it wrong for a very long time, and this was actually Colby's panic face.

"Get Nikki outta the car. There's no need for her to stay, right?" Nikki rose up at being spoken about like she didn't have a say in the matter, but both men ignored her, and Colby nodded.

"He's right, Agent Betancourt." Colby held out a hand, looking almost apologetic. "You should get out of the car and let the medics take a look at you."

"I can-"

"Nikki, now is not the time for argument." Don hissed, from his rather uncomfortable position. His arms were starting to shake, from the effort of holding them up for such a length of time. "Get out of the car and try not to move it too much." Nikki moved slowly to the edge, where Colby took control and lifted her out, like a baby. If the situation was not so serious, she would have objected, but instead curled up placidly until he lowered her feet to the ground.

Instead of running away, she turned right back around and kneeled by the car, as Don manouvred himself so that he was lying, across the entrance of the trunk. His arms would stop shaking this way.

"I'm really sorry about this." Nikki murmured to him, and Colby averted his gaze, scratching his head in classic Granger awkwardness. "I shouldn't have trusted Lieve when you had no reason to."

"He's your partner."

"You're... I trusted you." Leaning forwards, making sure that she didn't touch the SUV, she pressed a light kiss to is cheekbone. "I still trust you." Ignoring the protests of his sore muscles, he tipped his head back and kissed her fully on the lips, letting the severity of his predicament and the severity of all which had happened that day, just fade away into this small pleasure.

"Nikki, I want you to take care of Charlie. He's... he's real sensitive and I don't want him to go all PvsNP on dad."

"I don't know what that means, but I'll try." Nikki didn't do all of this bullshit about maybe Don was going to be okay. She didn't do false hope and lies. If he wanted to say goodbye, she was going to give him the chance because she knew that in all possibility, he wouldn't be able to say it again.

"I know that he'll be coming soon, but don't let him see me. He shouldn't see me like this." Don stared into the fray, which was now contained behind police barriers. "He gets nightmares."

They kissed again, and he rested his head tenderly on her shoulder, completely and utterly exhausted. Suddenly, Nikki felt hands on her shoulders, and turned to see Megan, who had come back into the hot zone.

"Megan, get outta here." Both Colby and Don warned, almost simultaneously, but Megan scoffed, and held her head high.

"Colby, stop being a hypocrite." Colby rolled his eyes and returned to his watching for the bomb squad. "Don, you're going to be fine. This bomb won't go off and you'll be able to get away." Megan was the one for false hope - she insisted that hope was the thing which kept the world turning, false or not. "You'll be fine." Don smiled, comforted by his friend's optimism even though everyone could see that it was forced.

"Just promise me that Lieve'll get what he deserves." Colby and Megan traded glances.

"Lieve's dead." Nikki stared at Megan, who had spoken. "A US Marshall shot him by mistake about seven hours ago." Don looked into the distance, processing, then back down at Nikki.

"He got what he deserved." She murmured, brokenly from her seat on the hard tarmac. Don's gaze didn't lift.

"He was still your partner."

* * *

The bomb squad had been working for thirteen and a half minutes, on Megan's watch, when Charlie, David and Liz arrived, parking haphazardly and nearly bowling over a bunch of accumulated LAPD and FBI, who were about to yell at them when they realised who they were, and looked down at their feet instead. No one wanted to see when Charlie caught sight of his brother, lying in the backseat of that SUV. Equally though, none of the agents wanted to tell Alan if Charlie ran forwards and both of his sons were caught in the blast.

"Charlie, you have to stay behind the barriers." Colby insisted, remembering Don's words. Though they could see his figure from here, they could not make out the extent of his battery. The amount of blood would only traumatize Charlie even more.

"No, I have to see him." Although it was physically easy for a man as strong as Colby to hold the mathematician back, it tore him up inside as Charlie started to yell Don's name, drawing even more attention to himself. Everyone looked away, embarrassed and sympathetic, and not knowing what to say.

"Charlie, you can't see him." Megan insisted, holding Charlie's arms firmly yet gently.

"I need to!" Charlie argued, his breath coming in heaves and big fat tears rolling down his cheeks. "I need to tell him that I'm not angry with him! I understand why he lied, and now he thinks that I-"

"Charlie, listen to me." Megan started, and everyone around her fell silent, her authorative tone doing its job extremely well. "Your brother loved you very much, and I don't want you to forget that. I know that it's hard, it's hard for us too, but you have to stay behind the barrier. What would we say to your dad if we let you go out there, and something happened to you?" Charlie stayed silent, though his struggling ceased, until he was just lying against Colby's shoulder, shaking. Megan moved forwards, and Charlie pulled away, rubbing his face.

"You're right. You're right, I'm not thinking rationally." He said, and his voice was stronger, if still weak. "I'm sorry."

Megan placed her arm gently around his shoulders, and made sure that his body could feel the warmth from her. Charlie needed reassurance that there were people around him, and she was sure this would reach him on a very basic level.

"Charlie, no one thinks rationally when someone they care about is in trouble. Even you." She led him to the curb, and they sat, silently, just staring into space. Every now and again, a tear fell from one of their faces.

* * *

"Is there anything that you can do?" Don asked the bomb squad bluntly, after they had time to evaluate the mechanism he was now attached to. "Don't lie to me, I'll know." The two men traded glances.

"I'm sorry, Agent Eppes, but it doesn't look good." The taller one spoke, and his voice was grim. "There is a small chance that we may be able to loosen some of the cables and lengthen the relay time, but we wouldn't know by how long, and we don't know if that might just set if off sooner." Don sighed. That was blunt enough for him.

"Try it." He ordered, and he realised that he was in no position to do so. "Please." He added.

"Of course we'll try, Agent." The shorter man smiled, and Don had the distinct feeling that he was new to the job. That he hadn't seen as many people die in explosions as the taller man had. "That's what we're here for."

Both men knelt down and began to work. Don took deep breaths, closing his eyes against the LA heat beating down on them, not making things any easier. He hadn't slept in over fifty hours, but he knew that he could not fall asleep now. His hand would inevitably slip, and he and the two bomb squad men, would be sent straight up to the Quantico in the sky.

"Agent Eppes, we've done all that we can." The taller man told him, after a good thirty minutes fiddling about in the mechanism of the bomb. "I'm sorry now, but it's time to run." Don nodded at them, and they began to pack up their equipment. The smaller man, clearly not as used to this work as his colleague, stared at Don for a moment, before helping the taller man pack away.

Time to run. Don knew what that meant. That meant that they were going to stroll away, safe for as long as Don keeps his hand still, then Don was going to move his hand of the mechanism and run like hell. He leaned back his head, taking deep breaths as the men from the bomb squad walked away, able to go home to their families and their friends, able to wake up in the morning and breathe the air and walk in the rain and bask in the sun. They were free, and although they felt bad, they still left him - not that he expected them to stay - to watch as the fire would roar up and engulf him in its fiery grasp.

Don had never been so sure about God. Maybe it was all of the violence and the cruelness that the world had shown him in his forty years on its surface, or maybe it was just the lack of calling, but either way, he had never completely understood how his mother had lent her life to belief, when it had done nothing for her. But in this moment he understood that it wasn't about getting anything in return. It was about just having something to believe in, and something to hang on for.

Charlie had his numbers, David had his justice, Megan and Nikki had their faith in humanity. But what did Don have?

Taking a deep breath, he sighed, smiling up at the sky. He didn't believe in God, and he didn't believe that he was going to heaven or hell. He believed in the law, and he believed that although he hadn't trusted it so far in, things would work out in the end. There would be justice for David, and peace of mind for Megan and Nikki that humankind could still be righteous.

And Charlie... well. Charlie would always have his numbers.

Pushing himself to the edge of the trunk, he took one look at the people accumulated at the end of the street. They seemed so far away. Megan and Charlie sitting on the curb; Nikki in the back of her ambulance, arguing with the medics, no doubt to let her stay; David and Colby standing shoulder to shoulder, up against the barrier, and Liz, standing slightly behind. Just blurs in the distance, but he knew that it was them.

Don stole one last glance at the family that he knew and loved so much, and took a deep breath. It was time to hit escape.

The bomb had a three second relay.


	10. Basic Game Theory Part 2

**Chapter Ten - Basic Game Theory Part 2**

Waking up in hospital is never like it is in all of the movies. Consciousness does not come completely, it merely fragments and twists. A week feels like a second when you're trying to wake, unsure if this is life, death or the undefined haze inbetween, and similarly, a second feels like a wake when you twist in the night, your body plagued by pains and nausea. Because the morphine can only do so well.

When Don woke, the first thing he asked if he was dead. He could not speak, but his words echoed in his head, having nowhere else to go. A slur and a cough brought his brother to his side, but the image distorted and faded as soon as it appeared. Another day passed, those words echoing in his brain like the lyrics on scratched vinyl. No one answered yet.

Two weeks in a state of perpetual confusion. Sometimes it felt like a month, sometimes it felt like a day, but it was irrefutably a fortnight. He could sometimes hear people around him; talking to him. He heard David bring him flowers, while insisting to Colby that Claudia made him bring them. Don would have smiled if he was aware of his actions. Instead, those echoes in his head just kept on bouncing. He heard Charlie, and his dad, lots of times, asking him to get better. As if sheer willpower alone would help him recover from the pain and the trauma his body had experienced. But it didn't, not yet anyway.

He also heard Nikki, talking to him. Her words were clearer than most, perhaps because they were the most recent that he could remember. The DA had approved the case, and he was no longer considered a felon. For his clean service record, his intentions and the situation which his felony was committed in, he would not have to serve in state jail, though he was suspended from duty until further notice, but she swore that she heard a little birdy high up in the food chain saying that he wouldn't be gone for long. That the Bureau needed him. Now whether this was just gossip or wishful thinking, Don didn't know or care.

Finally, the thing which tugged him from a three day long slumber, was the sound of chalk hitting blackboard - one he was all too familiar with. Surprised to realise that he could, he smiled slightly, and tried to open his eyes. Everything was blurry for the first few minutes, but things gradually cleared, as his eyes refocussed to the world.

"Chuck, why is there a blackboard in my hospital room?" Don asked, surveying his brother through slitted eyes. Charlie leaped, shocked by the sudden noise from behind him. Although Don's voice was slurred, his little brother appeared to understand him just fine. Call it brotherly intuition.

"Well since I was spending a lot of time here, I thought that I could multitask. Plus, the nurses were really angry when I wrote on the windows." Charlie explained, and Don couldn't help but to smile further at his boyish smile and the smear of chalk on his cheek.

"What you working on?"

"P vs NP." Charlie said, and Don groaned.

"Charlie!-"

"Don, I was joking!" Charlie laughed, gesturing towards the board, and making his brother roll his eyes. "It's basic game theory. A branch of the Cognitive Emergence Theory, simplified and distilled."

"Basic game theory, huh?"

"Yes, what happened with you and Nikki and Lieve really set off a train of thought." Charlie said, holding the finger of chalk to his chin and creating yet another dusty smudge. Suddenly, he darted across the room and curled up on the chair next to Don's bed, pulling up his legs so they were crossed. "About relationships and trust within these relationships. It's not disimilar to Colby's trust metric, but... different." Don would have raised an eyebrow could he control his muscles.

"So dissimilar." He surmised, and Charlie glared at him, so he shut up.

"I mean that every single action, every thought, every lie which twisted its way into what happened two weeks ago, can be explained by basic game theory."

"Charlie, you can't possibly think that if you'd worked this out, you'd come to the conclusion that I'd be blown up." Charlie shook his head.

"I'm talking about the relationships between the people that's the basic game theory, not what these people did, but with a little help from Nikki and Megan, I can estimate what kind of actions the people will take based on their relationships and the time-lines, and predict what will happen." He sounded so happy that Don felt bad to shoot him down.

"Charlie, you can't predict the future with math."

"If I have the right data I can!" Don shook his head slightly, trying to contain his laughter because he knew that it would cause his chest pain.

"No way, Chuck. I don't buy it." Charlie glared, then stuck his nose in the air.

"What do you know? You need a calculator to know the square root of 207." He said, pompously, and returned to his board.

"Yeah, what do I know?" Don watched his baby brother, thinking back to what had happened in the motel room, and wondering what would have happened had he lost him. "I love you, Chuck." Charlie smiled widely at the board, still writing away.

"Love you too, Don."


End file.
